After My Mate Chose My Sister Over Me

The pack house erupted in a flurry of activity as news spread like wildfire—the Lycan Prince had arrived. I stood in the shadows of the grand entrance hall, watching as pack members scrambled to attention, their faces a mixture of awe and apprehension.

"His Highness, Lycan Prince Angelo Bishop," Beta Marcus announced, his voice carrying across the marble floor.

The man who stepped through the massive oak doors commanded attention without effort. Tall and regal, with dark hair that caught the light from the crystal chandeliers, Angelo moved with the fluid grace of a born predator. But unlike Alec's raw, violent energy, Angelo's power was controlled, refined—a sword sheathed in velvet.

"Alpha Frederick," Angelo's voice was deep and melodic, with just a hint of an Italian accent. "Thank you for welcoming me to Silvercrest territory."

My father emerged from his study, his Alpha aura flaring as he assessed the Lycan Prince. "The honor is ours, Your Highness. Your visit is unexpected but welcome."

I tried to make myself invisible, but Angelo's head suddenly snapped in my direction. His nostrils flared slightly, and his eyes—a striking amber that seemed to glow with inner light—widened fractionally.

"Keira," he said softly, and my name on his lips sounded like a prayer.

I stepped forward reluctantly, feeling the weight of every gaze in the room. "Your Highness."

Angelo's eyes never left mine as he crossed the distance between us. Unlike other wolves who used their presence to intimidate, he seemed to fold his power inward, making himself smaller, less threatening.

"May I?" he asked, extending his hand palm up—offering, not demanding.

I placed my hand in his, and a small electric current seemed to pass between us. His touch was warm, gentle.

"Your wolf has awakened," he said quietly, his voice pitched so only I could hear. "And she's in pain."

I stiffened. How could he possibly know?

"I can smell it on you," he continued, his thumb tracing small circles on my palm. "The mate bond... and the rejection."

Shame and anger flared hot in my chest. "I don't know what you mean."

"Keira." My name again, and this time it held a wealth of understanding that made my eyes burn with unshed tears. "Let me help you."

---

The pack gardens were in full bloom, roses and lilies scenting the air with their perfume. But all I could smell was him—musk and rain, pine and winter frost.

"Walk with me," Angelo had requested after the formal greetings were complete. Now we strolled along stone paths, the afternoon sun casting long shadows across the manicured lawn.

"You're safe here," Angelo said, breaking the comfortable silence between us. "My warriors have secured the perimeter."

"I don't need protection," I replied automatically, though we both knew it was a lie.

Angelo stopped, turning to face me fully. "Don't you? Your father's plans with Joziah West are... troubling."

My stomach clenched at the name. "How do you know about that?"

"I make it my business to know things that concern you." His voice was steady, matter-of-fact. "Keira, let me take you away from this place."

"You don't understand—"

"I understand more than you think." His hand found mine again, and this time I didn't pull away. "Come to Italy. To the Royal Lycan Court. You'll be safe there."

"And do what? Hide forever?"

"No." A small smile touched his lips. "Live. Heal. Be free."

The word 'free' hung between us, tantalizing and impossible.

"I've offered you protection before," he continued. "But you weren't ready then. Are you ready now?"

I looked up at him—really looked at him. There was no demand in his eyes, no expectation. Just patience and something deeper that made my newly awakened wolf stir with interest.

"I—"

"Prince Angelo." Brooke's voice cut through our moment like a knife. "What a delightful surprise."

She approached us with that practiced glide of hers, her smile not reaching her eyes as they flicked between Angelo and me.

"Miss Griffin," Angelo acknowledged with a slight nod. "I was just catching up with an old friend."

"Friend?" Brooke's eyebrow arched. "I wasn't aware my sister had such... elevated connections."

Before I could respond, I felt it—a prickling awareness at the back of my neck. I turned slowly toward the pack house.

Alec stood on a balcony overlooking the gardens, his storm-gray eyes fixed on us with an intensity that made the air feel thick. Even from this distance, I could see the muscle ticking in his jaw, the way his hands gripped the stone balustrade until his knuckles turned white.

Our eyes locked across the distance, and for a moment, I felt the mate bond pulse between us—a living thing desperate to connect.

Then Angelo stepped slightly in front of me, breaking the line of sight.

"Your Alpha seems... troubled," he observed quietly.

"He's not my Alpha," I whispered, though my wolf howled in protest.

Angelo's eyes met mine again, and in them I saw a promise—protection, safety, perhaps even love. But as Alec's gaze burned into us from above, I wondered if any promise could withstand the biological imperative of a mate bond denied.