Giving Up My Mate for My Stepsister

“I am so proud to announce that, a month from my twentieth birthday, I will marry Quincy Malone, Beta Jean Malone’s daughter,” Alpha Branden Harrison declared at his grand birthday banquet, his voice echoing across the hall.

The crowd froze, the air heavy with disbelief. I stood among them, utterly stunned. He was my mate.

For four years, I had been bound to him by the sacred bond, yet he announced his union with another.

Whispers spread like wildfire, questions hanging in the air. None louder than the one in my heart, “Why?”

Quincy Malone, the socalled daughter of Beta Jean, was the product of my father’s betrayal.

Born to a rogue, Johanna Burke, she was the reason my mother divorced my father and fled back to her birth pack. A stain on my family’s history. And then, she was to marry my mate?

When the banquet ended and the last guest departed, I confronted Branden at the back of the hall, far from curious eyes. My emotions boiled over.

“What is the meaning of this?” I shouted, my voice cracking with anguish.

Branden stood unfazed, his tone maddeningly calm. “I love her more than I love you.”

His words cut deeper than any blade.

“Oh,” I whispered, a bitter laugh escaping me. Why had I even asked? The answer was as clear as the betrayal etched in his eyes.

I should have known better. My father’s infidelity had taught me the weakness of the mate bond.

If my mother could sever ties with her mate, then so could I. No matter how dazzling the bond seemed, if it did not fit, it was not worth holding on to.

With trembling determination, I said, “Then I, Eleonor Malone, reject….”

Before I could finish, Branden’s hand clamped over my mouth. His strength pinned me to the wall, his emerald eyes blazing with fury.

“Don’t you dare defy me, Eleonor!” he hissed, his voice dripping with rage. “Who gave you the right to decide your fate? To rebel against me?”

The air thickened, suffocating under his dominance. His heat overtook him, his anger igniting something darker. My struggles were futile as his strength overwhelmed me, leaving me helpless.

I fell to the ground, tears streaming down my face, my body trembling with pain and humiliation.

As I laid there, broken, I noticed a shadow moving behind the wall; it was Quincy. She stood there, her expression twisted in disdain and annoyance, watching everything unfold.

When Branden finally left, his desires stated, Quincy emerged. A silver dagger gleamed in her hand, the cold metal catching the light.

“How dare you touch my future husband, you bitch,” she spat, her voice venomous.

Before I could respond, she drove the dagger into my chest. The cold steel burned as it pierced my heart, my cries fading into the darkness.

Death came swiftly, but peace eluded me. My soul lingered, a restless specter bound by pain and betrayal. I watched, unseen, as Branden and Quincy went on to live their twisted version of happiness.

But their joy only fueled my rage.

In death, I made a vow.

I would return. And in my next life, they would pay for every drop of pain they inflicted upon me.

“The mate bond may have broken, but my vengeance will never fade.”

“Eleonor, wake up!” A loud banging on the door jolted me awake, but could not force me to open my eyes.

“Don’t disturb me,” I murmured.

But the voice continued to echo, “Eleonor, wake up and open the door.”

As the second voice came to my ear, I started to realize if I lived alone in a studio apartment, and no one ever knocked on my door like that.

But the real question was, “Who was Eleonor?”

“Eleonor, you hear me? Wake up before I break down the door again,” the voice yelled again, impatient and angry.

Panic swirled in my chest. With hesitation, I opened my eyes and sat upright. A chill ran through me as I realized something was terribly off.

“This isn’t my room,” I whispered, my voice trembling.

Gone were my small but cozy apartment and familiar surroundings.

Instead, I was in an unfamiliar bedroom. The wooden furniture had a rustic charm, the room smelled faintly of pine.

“Where am I? Have I... died?” My hands flew to my cheeks, pressing against the warmth of my skin. “Is this some kind of afterlife? Did I overdo my diet and push my body too far? Oh my God!”

The voice outside the door grew more impatient. “Eleonor, stop wasting time and open the door!”

Shaking off my thoughts, I climbed out of bed with a heavy heart and shuffled to the door, unlocking it cautiously.

The door swung open, revealing a young woman with auburn curls and piercing green eyes. Her hands were full—a brown paper bag in one and a thermos in the other.

She glared at me as if I had personally wronged her.

“Finally,” she huffed. “I brought you breakfast. Now get ready, or we’ll both be late. You know the headmaster hates waiting.”

I blinked at her, utterly bewildered. “Sorry, but who...are you?”

Her eyes narrowed, and her lips twisted into a scowl. “Are you joking? Eleonor, it’s me, Everly. Your best friend, the one who keeps you from getting into trouble with the pack?”

“Pack?” The word felt foreign in my mouth, yet it tugged at some buried memory.

Everly did not wait for an explanation. She pushed me toward what I assumed was the bathroom and tossed a towel at me.

“I don’t have time for your nonsense. Shower, now! I’ll be in the kitchen setting up breakfast. If you’re not out in ten minutes, I’m dragging you there myself.”

The door clicked shut behind me, and I turned toward the mirror.

The sight made my breath hitch.

The person staring back was not me. Sure, there were vague similarities—brown hair, fair skin—but the angles of the face, the sharpness of the cheekbones, and the striking amber eyes were entirely foreign.

“What the!”

I leaned closer, running my fingers over my unfamiliar features. That was not my body.

Panic swelled in my chest, but before I could think further, a voice rang out—not from the room, but inside my mind.

“Morning, Eleonor,” it yawned lazily.

I froze, gripping the edge of the sink. “Who... who’s there?”

The voice chuckled, soft but unmistakably amused. “You’re teasing me again, Eleonor? It’s me, Selene—your wolf.”

“Wolf?” My voice came out in a whisper.

“Don’t play dumb. We’re late again, aren’t we? You promised Everly you wouldn’t make her angry anymore. Now, get moving.”

The room spun around me. Selene? A wolf? The name Eleonor Malone suddenly felt oddly familiar.

Then it hit me.

It was the name of the protagonist in the book I read for the third time last night entitled “Alpha Who Never Loved Me.”

I stumbled back, gripping the sink for support as realization dawned.

“I’m...in the book?”

The reason I had read that cursed story over and over again was to find a plot hole—anything I could use to save the female lead.

I despised the ending where the heroine was left to die, watching helplessly as her mate married her stepsister.

And then, somehow, I was inside the very book whose ending I loathed?

No way! That had to be a dream. I had to be imagining that because I had obsessed over it too much before falling asleep.

“Right, it’s just a dream. Wake up, Leah. Snap out of it!” I slapped my cheeks repeatedly, hoping the sharp sting would jolt me back to reality.

Selena’s voice, calm and curious, echoed in my mind. “What are you doing, Eleonor? And who is Leah?”

I froze. “It’s my real name, okay? I am not Eleonor—I’m Leah.”

The wolf inside me sighed, her exasperation palpable. “Eleonor, you’ve clearly gone mad. Maybe you should sit down and think this through.”

“No, I’m serious! I’m Leah, and I’ve somehow ended up in this ridiculous book.”

After five frustrating minutes of arguing with Selena, who refused to acknowledge my claims, I gave up. There was no reasoning with a wolf who believed I had lost my mind.

Instead, I trudged to the bathroom to take a shower, trying to ignore her occasional comments about teasing her too much.

When I emerged, Everly was waiting for me with breakfast on the table, her chatter filling the room. I said nothing, keeping my mouth shut, but my mind would not stop racing.

‘What page am I on now?’

As I absentmindedly bit down on my spoon, panic gnawed at me.

“Eleonor, are you nervous because your mate will turn twenty in a week and officially become the Alpha of the Nightwalker Pack? Not to mention, he promised to marry you after that, didn’t he?” Everly teased, a playful grin on her face.

“Married?” I repeated without thinking, the word sticking in my throat.

Everly nodded enthusiastically, launching into a longwinded monologue about the preparations, the expectations, and how everyone envied my position as the future Luna.

I barely heard her. My brain worked overtime, piecing together where exactly I was in the story.

A sudden realization hit me like a thunderbolt. But they never actually got married.

The next clue was the timing—a week before the Alpha turned twenty.

My blood ran cold.

It meant that was the final chapter.

The chapter I hated the most. The chapter where the female lead died.

A wave of panic surged through me. My thoughts spiraled out of control, and the sharp memory of my earlier experiment in the bathroom resurfaced.

I had tried to pinch and scratch myself to wake up, and it hurt. It bled.

Which meant I could die here.

“I don’t want to die,” I whispered under my breath, the words slipping out between Everly’s cheerful chatter.

“Die?” Everly paused, her brows furrowing for a moment before she grinned again. “Oh, you mean you’re being extra cautious because your wedding is just around the corner, right? Makes sense. After all, it’s such a big event....”

Her voice faded into the background as dread settled heavily in my chest.

I had one week left. One week to change my fate.

If I failed, I would not just hate the ending, I would be the ending.

I just pouted as Everly continued rambling enthusiastically, completely unaware of the storm brewing in my mind.

She did not know what was coming, since it had not happened yet, but I did. I had read this story three times, and each time, I was haunted by the same tragic ending.

But at that moment, I was not just a reader. I was there, living as Eleonor. And that meant I had a chance to change everything.

Right, that was the reason why I read the story over and over again. It was to find a loophole, a way for the female lead to escape her fate.

If I could use that knowledge to rewrite my own ending, maybe I could save myself.

The first step was clear. I needed to find my mother, who had gone back to her origin pack, Whiteclaw Pack.

“Let’s keep alive, Eleonor,” I muttered under my breath, the words both a prayer and a promise.

Everly, predictably, misunderstood. She beamed at me and chirped, “Right. Let’s keep alive until the wedding—no, no, I mean forever!”

I sighed, shaking my head. “Sure, Everly. Forever.”

After a long day of teaching at the academy, I felt the weight of my plan settling on my shoulders. If I was going to leave the Nightwalker Pack and seek refuge with my mother, I needed to make it official.

I printed a pack transfer letter and decided to bring it to the Alpha’s office for stamping.

It was a risky move, but I hoped it would go smoothly since Eleonor had often visited the Alpha’s office in the novel to handle academyrelated files.

To avoid suspicion, I also carried a stack of academy documents with me.

As I walked through the packhouse, I forced myself to stay calm. Wolves passing by smiled and greeted me warmly, as if my presence there was nothing out of the ordinary. It was comforting and unsettling all at once.

When I finally reached Branden’s office, I paused outside the door to compose myself. But just as I was about to knock, I caught a glimpse of something through the small gap in the slightly ajar door.

My breath hitched.

Inside, Branden and Quincy were wrapped in each other’s arms, locked in a passionate kiss.

What a cursed pair of lovebirds!

My heart clenched, not with jealousy but with disgust. I knew the scene all too well—it was a pivotal moment in the story.

That was the moment where Branden’s betrayal became undeniable, the moment that set Eleonor on the tragic path to her own death.

But there I was, witnessing it firsthand. And seeing it with my own eyes was far more infuriating than reading it in the novel.

What made it worse was the conversation that unfolded between their stolen kisses.

“You really want to marry me, right?” Quincy asked, her tone saccharine and spoiled, dripping with false innocence.

“Of course,” Branden replied without hesitation, his voice laced with a sickening sincerity. “There’s no one I love except you, Quincy. You know I’ve loved you since you came here.”

Then, their tongue linked again exchanging saliva.

My stomach churned as I saw that. But then I realized if that conversation was not in the novel.

It seemed the book had not told the whole story.

Apparently, Quincy and Branden had only known each other as a friend all the time. But in the book, they were in affair about two to three years ago.

However, if Branden said it was since Quincy came to the Pack, it meant he had set eyes on her since she was five.

Eleonor was also five that time when her father brought another woman with a daughter to our house.

Her mother cried and they argued for an hour, which only ended by rejection and divorced between them.

That was the one of the scene that I did not like, but well, sometimes it needed to be heated.

However, as if to twist the knife deeper, I overheard Quincy laugh mockingly and call me, or rather Eleonor, “a placeholder Luna,” at that moment.

“Sstt, don’t say it too loud,” Branden also chuckled after hearing that.

As a result, rage bubbled up inside me. I could not help but reflect on Eleonor’s sacrifices.

From the time she was a child, Eleonor had dreamed of becoming an independent warrior, a proud protector of her pack.

But when the mate bond formed between her and Branden at sixteen, her aspirations were pushed aside. She devoted herself entirely to supporting his leadership, learning diplomacy, and strategy to stand by his side as Luna.

Meanwhile, Quincy, who had always dreamed of mating with an Alpha, had never given up her pursuit of Branden.

She bragged constantly, flaunting every new gift Branden gave her during their socalled friendship.

But the Moon Goddess had another plan, instead of mating with Quincy, Branden was mating with Eleonor. His attention that was originally for Quincy changed to her.

At first Eleonor did not have the heart to hurt Quincy, but she could not reject Branden's affection and attention, so as time went by, she believed that everything was arranged by the Moon Goddess herself.

While I was still recalling the scene from the novel, Selena’s voice interrupted my thoughts.

“Eleonor, our bond with Branden is weakening,” she said, her tone tinged with worry. “He’s emotionally tied to another wolf. That connection is breaking what we share.”

I froze. There was one again that was not in the story.

“Why didn’t you say this in the novel?” I scolded her, frustration creeping into my voice.

Selena sounded confused. “What are you talking about, Eleonor? What novel?”

Ah, of course, she would not know. She was part of this world, oblivious to the fact that her reality had once been a work of fiction.

Maybe that was happening because I had already begun changing the storyline.

In the book, Eleonor never found out about Branden and Quincy’s affair—at least, not until it was too late. This must have been what allowed Selena to sense the weakening of their mate bond.

“Forget it,” I muttered, shaking off the thought. “I should give that cursed lovebird a lesson.”

Anger surged within me, and my fists clenched involuntarily. The urge to barge into the office and confront them was nearly overwhelming.

But no. That would only derail my plan.

I needed to stay calm, keep my head down, and play my part until I was free of the Nightwalker Pack and its deceitful Alpha.

Taking a deep breath, I stepped back and stationed myself in the hallway, pretending to shuffle through the files in my hands. My heart pounded as I waited for them to finish their little rendezvous.

When the door finally opened, Quincy emerged, her face glowing with smug satisfaction.

“Oh, Eleonor,” she said sweetly, her saccharine tone making my skin crawl. “What brought you here?”

I forced my expression to remain neutral, holding up the stack of papers. “Just some academy documents that need the Alpha’s approval.”

“Of course,” she replied, her eyes gleaming with triumph. “Branden’s inside. Go ahead.”

As she walked past me, her aura of satisfaction felt almost tangible, like a sickeningly sweet perfume that lingered in the air.

I squared my shoulders, straightened my back, and stepped into the office, meeting Branden’s gaze headon.

For a split second, he looked startled. But then he quickly composed himself, masking his surprise with the authoritative demeanor of an Alpha.

“Eleonor, what do you need?” he asked, his tone cool and detached.

I held up the transfer letter, hidden among the academy documents, and kept my voice steady. “I need your stamp of approval for some files.”

His eyes scanned the papers, his expression unreadable. For a moment, my stomach twisted with worry. Would he notice the transfer request tucked into the stack?

But then, with a swift flick of his wrist, he stamped all the documents and handed them back to me.

“Anything else?” he asked indifferently, as though he hadn’t just been caught kissing my stepsister minutes ago.

“No, Alpha,” I replied curtly, turning to leave before my composure could crack.

But as I reached the door, his voice stopped me.

“Eleonor,” he said, almost casually, “I’ve told you before, I’m not officially Alpha yet. I’m just replacing my father for now. It’s still a week away. Call me by my name, okay?”

I nodded stiffly. “Right. Thank you for everything, Branden.”

I forced a polite smile and began gathering the files.

As I did, his hand brushed against my wrist.

“Wait,” he said sharply.

Panic flooded my chest. Did he notice the transfer letter?

I tried to keep my expression neutral, but my mind raced.

If he had seen the transfer letter, everything would fall apart. My plan would be over before it even began.

But, to my surprise, Branden’s next words had nothing to do with the letter.

“Did you see Quincy leave my room?” he asked, his tone unusually casual but with an undercurrent of tension.

Ah, so that was it. He wanted to know if I had caught them in the act.

I smiled innocently, feigning ignorance. “Oh, I just met her in the hallway. So, she was in your room just now?”

His shoulders stiffened, and his voice took on a defensive edge. “Yeah, there was something she needed to discuss.”

“Ah, I see,” I replied, my tone light and uninterested, though the fire of anger burned beneath my calm exterior.

Branden hesitated, his eyes searching mine. “You’re not jealous, right?” he asked, the question betraying his need for reassurance.

I smirked, letting a hint of bitterness seep into my voice. “If I were jealous, I would have broken our ties long ago, Branden. I’ve always known your friendship with Quincy was closer than most.”

His reaction was immediate. He shot up from his chair, his aura crackling with anger as his hand still gripped my wrist, preventing me from stepping back. “What did you say?”

His tone was sharp, his frustration palpable.

I could feel the air grow heavy, his presence imposing as he moved closer. His eyes bore into mine, and for a moment, I felt a pang of déjà vu.

That was too similar to the scene from the book—the one that was supposed to happen on his 20th birthday.

Had I accidentally sped up the story's timeline?

Branden’s voice was low, dangerous. “What makes you think you can talk like that?”

Before he could press me further, I pushed against his chest, forcing some distance between us. “I have to deliver these files soon, Branden,” I said, trying to sound indifferent.

He did not let me go so easily. “Then say sorry,” he demanded, his grip tightening slightly.

I paused, glaring at him. “For what?”

“For saying you would break our bond,” he snapped. “Never say that again. Do you understand?”

I stared back at him coldly, letting the tension hang in the air before responding flatly, “It depends.”

Then, without waiting for his reply, I yanked my hand free, took the file with me, and walked out of his office.

After returning to the academy teacher dormitory, I pulled out a blank journal. I needed to document everything I remembered about the original story, just in case my memories of the real world started to fade.

I scribbled furiously, listing every event, relationship, and detail I could recall. But as I wrote, one glaring issue became obvious, the maps.

The story never revealed any specifics about the geography or routes between packs.

I paused, frustration building as I muttered to myself, “Ugh, that makes me hate the story even more.”

Despite this setback, I did have one critical piece of information. It was the full name of Eleonor’s mother, Michelle Walsh, and her new husband, Arnold Orlando.

The book mentioned that Michelle had remarried Arnold, who was the uncle of the Alpha of the Whiteclaw Pack.

That connection gave me a glimmer of hope. If I could just reach the border gate and find someone who recognized those names, I might be able to get directions.

As I mulled over my plan, I did not realize how exhausted I was. At some point, I dozed off, my pen slipping from my hand.

When I woke up, sunlight was already streaming through the window. Panic set in as I realized I had overslept.

“Why do we have the same nature, Eleonor? We can’t wake up early,” I grumbled in annoyance as I rushed to pack my belongings.

It was the weekend, which gave me a perfect window to escape. I had originally planned to leave at dawn, but since I had woken up late, I decided it might be better to sneak out in the evening instead.

Once my bag was packed, I decided to jog to prepare for my upcoming escape. Running would likely be my only option once I crossed the pack’s borders, and I needed to ensure I was in good shape.

Luckily, in my real life, I had a habit of joining marathons, so I was no stranger to longdistance running.

“I hope your body can keep up with me, Eleonor,” I muttered, lacing up my shoes.

But as soon as I started running, I was stunned by how effortless it felt. My legs moved with precision, my breathing stayed steady, and I did not feel even the slightest bit tired.

“Uh? So, this is what it’s like to be a werewolf? It’s amazing to have a strong body and stamina.”

Selena chuckled in my mind. “Finally, you’re noticing the perks. But seriously, since yesterday, you’ve been talking to yourself a lot. It’s weird, Eleonor.”

I smirked, “Get used to it. I’ve got a lot to figure out.”

Then Selena’s tone shifted, becoming more serious. “But... I noticed something. You didn’t react much when I told you that our bond with Branden is weakening. Aren’t you upset? Or sad?”

I froze midstride, her words sinking in. She was right. Shouldn’t I be devastated by that?

“Are you sad?” I asked cautiously, curious about her feelings.

Selena seemed to pout in my mind. “Of course, I am. It’s not just Branden who’s attracted to Quincy—his wolf is too. And that hurts.”

“Oh.” I did not know what else to say. Her pain was clear, and it tugged at me.

But then an idea came to mind. Maybe I could offer her the same encouragement I was trying to give myself.

“You know, Selena,” I said gently, “if my mother could find a new mate after leaving my father, then I think we can too. Don’t you think? Let’s focus on the future instead of Branden. He doesn’t deserve us.”

Selena was silent for a moment, clearly surprised by my response. Then, her voice softened. “You’re right. If the Moon Goddess has another mate waiting for us, I’ll let you know the moment I sense him.”

“Deal,” I replied with a laugh, picking up my pace.

The rest of my jog was peaceful, my mind feeling clearer as I pushed aside thoughts of Branden and focused on my escape.

But that peace was shortlived.

As I reached the city hall, a large announcement board came into view. A group of pack members had gathered around it, murmuring to one another.

Curious, I approached to see what the commotion was about.

My heart sank as I read the notice, [To all Nightwalker Pack residents, movement outside pack borders is strictly prohibited during the Alpha’s banquet preparations. This restriction will remain in place until further notice.]

“What?” I whispered, disbelief washing over me.

Selena sighed in my mind, her tone grim. “Looks like the universe doesn’t want you to escape just yet.”

I clenched my fists, frustration boiling over. “Am I really not allowed to change the storyline anymore?”

The announcement felt like a roadblock, but I was not about to give up. If the story wanted to keep me trapped, I would just have to find another way to rewrite it.

In the end, I followed the storyline and attended the banquet. The difference was that I was far from invested in the event, unlike how Eleonor was portrayed in the final chapter of the book.

Instead, I lingered by the wine table, sipping occasionally as the event began to unfold. My plan was simple, to go completely offscript once Branden announced his marriage to Quincy.

But then, something unexpected happened.

“So, you really weren’t lying when you said you had a twin, Mark. She really does look like you,” someone said nearby.

I turned, startled, to find two men standing close to me. One had a face strikingly similar to mine, and the other exuded a dominant Alpha aura.

The man who had Alpha aura spoke first. “So, you are really Eleonor, Beta Mark’s twin?”

“I... I am,” I replied, stumbling over my words.

It felt surreal. Although the book mentioned Eleonor having a twin brother who was taken by their mother fifteen years ago, their paths never crossed in the original story.

That moment was not supposed to happen also, so it could be said, I had changed the story again.

Despite my confusion, I forced a smile to mask it. “Could I ask who this gentleman is, Mark?”

Mark looked a bit awkward, as if he too was not sure how to bridge the gap between us after so many years apart. “Ah, sorry, Eleonor. You must be surprised. This is Alpha Christopher Orlando. I’ve told him not to bother you, but he insisted on meeting you.”

Alpha Christopher Orlando.

My heart skipped a beat as I realized who he was—the Alpha of the Whiteclaw Pack, the one who took over after his father’s death. He could be a shortcut for me because I decided to move to his pack.

“Oh, I see. Nice to meet you, Alpha Christopher,” I said, giving him a polite nod.

He said excitedly, “Nice to meet you too, Eleonor. I have always wanted to meet you since Mark mentioned he has a twin in the Nightwalker Pack, that’s why I have been trying to find you since I attended this banquet.”

I just nodded, and did not know how to respond.

For a moment, the awkwardness lingered. But as the three of us talked, the barriers between us began to dissolve.

Besides the fact that Christopher was a talkative Alpha, I also found comfort in being with Mark.

Despite the years of separation, we often said the same things at the same time, laughing at our unintentional synchronization.

It felt almost natural, as though the bond of being twins had not faded despite the time and distance.

But our lighthearted conversation was abruptly interrupted.

“Eleonor.”

Branden’s voice was cold and dark as he called my name. He was already approaching us, his expression thunderous.

Before I could react, Branden pulled me into a tight embrace. “Who are you talking to?” he asked, his voice laced with tension.

I could sense his grip on my waist hardened every second, as if he wanted to say that I was his. No one should talk friendly to me or take me from him.

So, I could not help think, ‘Don’t tell me he’s jealous.’

But then I strengthened my mind, why should he be jealous when he planned to marry Quincy?

That did not make any sense at all.

In the end, I decided to introduce them. “Oh, it’s….”

Before I could explain, Branden’s father called out to him, urging him to take his place at the podium.

Branden gave me a long look before gripping my hand tightly. “You have to listen to my speech, Eleonor. Come to the center.”

He led me away, separating me from Mark and Christopher.

I did not even have time to reject and ended up watching him climb the podium.

I found myself standing amidst the crowd, listening to his speech—or rather, pretending to listen.

My mind wandered until Christopher managed to slip through the gathering and stand beside me.

“Sorry for not introducing you to Alpha Branden earlier,” I said softly, glad to have a familiar face near me.

Christopher shook his head, his expression cold but composed. “It’s fine. He seemed in a hurry. Besides, we’re not exactly close.”

His tone was frigid, as though the very mention of Branden irritated him. Despite the chill, I saw an opportunity to steer the conversation in a new direction.

“Does Whiteclaw need an extra Beta teacher?” I asked, keeping my voice casual but hopeful.

Christopher’s lips curved into a small smile. “It does.”

Then, after a pause, he added, “I think it’d be good for you to help your brother.”

Before I could respond, Branden’s gaze locked onto us from the podium. His expression darkened as he noticed me talking to Christopher.

However, I did not care and continued to talk friendly to Christopher.

Even if the point in the story where he was supposed to announce his marriage to Quincy was about to happen, it could be said, I no longer care since it was not my love story at all.

I did not have any love for him, just hate. We never had any romantic situations either, so it did not disturb me with whom he ended up with.

I just wanted to escape the tragic ending that the heroine had, which was me at that moment.

That was why, I should try everything including persuading Christopher to let me come to his Pack.

But instead of hearing Branden announce it, he faltered. His speech trailed off, and after a tense silence, he abruptly ended it without making any announcement.

My heart raced. Had my presence with Christopher disrupted the storyline?

“That’s all. Enjoy the banquet, everyone.”

Branden descended the podium, his face darkened with an unspoken fury as he walked straight toward me.

The crowd dispersed, returning to their conversations and activities, but Christopher remained by my side, exuding a calm and steady presence, as if he were completely unfazed by the tension building in the air.

As soon as Branden reached us, he pulled me closer to him in a possessive gesture and addressed Christopher curtly. “Sorry for the interruption because I had to speak, Alpha Christopher.”

“That’s no problem, Alpha Branden. I understand you must be very busy at this event,” Christopher replied, his tone polite but firm.

Branden nodded, his grip on me tightening. “Of course. Thank you for accompanying my mate and keeping her entertained so she wouldn’t get bored at this event.”

Christopher gave a small smile, but his words were sharp. “Sure. Anything to make her happy.”

Their eyes locked, and the atmosphere between them turned electric, a silent clash of dominance.

Neither one was willing to back down, their Alpha auras filling the space like a thunderstorm brewing on the horizon.

Christopher extended his hand, his voice steady. “Oh, and congratulations on officially becoming the Alpha of the Nightwalker Pack.”

Branden took the offered hand, gripping it so tightly that the veins on their arms became visible. “Thank you. We look forward to working together in the future.”

Their handshake turned into a silent power struggle, the tension between them palpable. Nearby guests glanced nervously at the two Alphas, their imposing energy causing unease.

But it did not affect me.

To break the growing tension, I pinched Branden’s side and whispered, “Enough of that, Branden. Look around you.”

Branden winced slightly, his body arching at the pinch. He looked at me and then glanced around, realizing the attention their silent battle was drawing.

He relaxed slightly and nodded. “Thank you for reminding me, my future Luna.”

He released Christopher’s hand and turned to him. “Then we’ll take our leave. There’s something we need to discuss.”

“Sure,” Christopher said, his gaze shifting to me. “See you later, Eleonor.”

I smiled politely at him, but before I could say anything, Branden grabbed my hand and led me away, heading toward the back of the hall where it was quieter and out of sight.

“Branden, let go of me. That hurts!” I protested, my voice rising.

As I said it, a wave of déjà vu washed over me. The line was eerily similar to the heroine’s plea in the novel, during the infamous scene where Branden assaulted Eleonor.

The thought made my stomach churn.

What was more, once we reached the secluded area, Branden cornered me against the wall, his hands gripping my shoulders firmly. His face was filled with a mix of anger and frustration.

“How could you chat so intimately with another man in front of me, Eleonor? And not just any man—an Alpha from another pack!”

Despite his attempt to dominate me, I remained calm and asked innocently, “Why can’t I? Shouldn’t we be able to get along with everyone, especially an Alpha, to foster diplomatic relations?”

“No!” he snapped, his voice echoing in the quiet corridor.

Branden took a deep breath, trying to compose himself before speaking again. “You’re going to be Luna. You should chat with the Lunas, not the Alphas. Do you understand?”

I met his gaze without flinching, refusing to back down. Instead, I tilted my head and challenged him, “Really? I’ll be Luna like you say? Shouldn’t you announce your plan to marry Quincy, then?”

His eyes widened in shock, his hands dropping from my shoulders. “Where did you hear that?”

His reaction confirmed it, the very thing I had read in the novel was indeed true. The plan to announce his marriage to Quincy was still on his mind, even if he had not done so yet.

I crossed my arms and arched a brow. “Does it matter where I heard it? The question is, why haven’t you announced it yet?”

Branden’s expression darkened, his jaw tightening as he stepped closer. “You don’t understand anything, Eleonor.”

“Then explain it to me, Branden,” I said, refusing to let him intimidate me. “Why am I still here, your supposed mate, while you make plans with Quincy behind my back? Do you think I’ll just stay silent and play the fool?”

His eyes flickered with something I could not quite place—regret, anger, or perhaps guilt. But instead of answering, he gritted his teeth and turned away, running a hand through his hair.

“This isn’t the time or place to talk about this,” he muttered.

“No,” I said firmly, “this is the time. If you won’t tell me the truth, I’ll make my own decisions, Branden. And don’t expect me to stay where I’m not respected.”

His head snapped back toward me, his expression conflicted.

I smirked, letting the words roll off my tongue like venom. “You’re really surprised I already know about your evil plan, right?”

Branden’s eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening. “Just answer me, Eleonor. Who told you?”

I stared at him sharply, my voice steady and cutting. “I don’t need anyone else to tell me. I already know about your affair, Branden.

“Even my wolf told me that our bond was weakening because you were attracted to another wolf. Should I tell you more?”

His pupils darkened instantly, rage and anger swirling together, threatening to consume him. It was as though the mask he always wore was starting to crack.

“It’s... It’s just a misunderstanding, Eleonor,” he stammered, trying to keep his voice calm but failing miserably. “You can’t just jump to conclusions based on such trivial evidence. How dare you accuse me of cheating on you, huh?”

I stepped closer, my tone cold and unwavering. “So, yesterday’s kiss in your office was also a misunderstanding? Is that the new way people communicate these days—by exchanging saliva?”

His pupils trembled as my words hit him like a slap. I watched as the realization settled in that I had witnessed everything.

Branden let out a frustrated snort, his facade breaking. “So, you really saw it. Good, now you know. But what?”

His arrogance was sickening, but instead of feeling hurt, I only felt disgust.

“Do you think it hurts me, Branden?” I asked, my voice dripping with disdain. “No, it doesn’t. Not anymore.”

With that, I shoved him backward. He staggered, clearly off balance, his body weakened from the wine he had been drinking earlier to appease the visiting Alphas.

Taking my chance, I stepped back and said firmly, “I, Eleonor Malone, reject this mate bond with you, Branden Harrison.”

The words struck both of us like a thunderclap.

Branden’s eyes widened in horror as the rejection sank in. He tried to move forward, his hand reaching for me, but it was too late.

Before he could even attempt to cover my mouth like he had before, his knees buckled, and he collapsed onto the ground.

He clutched his chest with one hand, his face contorted in pain, while the other hand pressed against his head as if trying to stop it from spinning.

I winced as the mate bond backlash hit me too, a sharp pain shooting through my chest and head. But it was not unbearable.

Maybe because I was not truly in love with Branden like the original Eleonor had been, the pain did not overwhelm me.

Branden, on the other hand, looked utterly broken. He gasped for air, his voice weak and strained. “No… Eleonor… why are you so cruel?”

I stared down at him, my expression emotionless. “You’re the one who’s cruel, Branden. You betrayed me first.”

His body finally gave out, and he crumpled fully to the floor, breathing heavily, his face pale.

Without sparing him another glance, I turned around just to see where Quincy was hiding.

She was standing exactly where the novel had described her, watching everything unfold from the shadows.

Her face twisted in shock as our eyes met. She had not expected me to notice her, but I had.

I strode past her purposefully, my head held high, and as I passed, I leaned in close and whispered, “Enjoy your Alpha, stepsister.”