He's Not My True Mate

"Don't worry. I didn't misunderstand." My voice was soft, calm even. "You go handle the adoption paperwork. I'll wait for you in the car."

Sam let out a visible breath of relief, his smile breaking free like sunlight through fog.

"Be good and wait for me, alright? I'll be right back."

I turned and walked toward the parking lot, the weight in my chest growing heavier with every step. I passed several members of the pack. They didn't bother lowering their voices.

"Poor thing. She has no idea…"

"I heard the Alpha's been coming here nearly every day, always with Lily. And they've already registered as mates. Doesn't that make Echo the homewrecker?"

Their words clawed at my back like icy talons, but I didn't stop. I didn't flinch. I just reached for my phone with trembling fingers and sent a message to someone I hadn't contacted in years.

[Dad, I'm tired. I just want to go home.]

It wasn't long after I got home that my father called—video, not just voice.

We hadn't seen each other in five years, and his hair was far more silver now than I remembered.

"Sweetheart," he said, voice tight with worry, "has Sam been treating you badly?"

The knot in my throat broke. I tried to hold it together, but my tears betrayed me.

"I missed you so much, Dad…"

The fight that had driven us apart—the one where he shouted at me, "Get out! You're no daughter of mine!"—felt like a lifetime ago. And yet, here he was, still angry for me. Still loving me.

He sighed, long and weary, but his eyes were full of warmth and regret.

"No matter what's happened, this will always be your home. I'll send someone to pick you up tomorrow."

After the call ended, I couldn't sleep. Guilt gnawed at me, keeping me wide-eyed into the night—guilt for what I'd done to my family, and for the decision I'd made all those years ago, leaving everything behind to follow Sam.

By the time I came downstairs the next morning, Sam and Lily were already seated at the breakfast table with Kitty nestled between them.

They looked perfect. A portrait of a happy family.

And I... I was the smudge on that perfect picture, the intruder in their painted domestic bliss.

Sam noticed me first. He sprang to his feet, guilt flashing across his face.

"Kitty just moved in. She's not used to the place yet," he explained quickly. "Lily's only staying for a few days to help her settle."

Kitty glanced at me, eyes wary. Then she turned and shouted, "I want Mommy and Daddy to sleep with me every night!"

She clutched Sam's and Lily's hands, pulling them together like she was tying a knot.

Lily gave me a look—a small, apologetic smile that didn't reach her eyes—and said sweetly, "Sorry, Echo. Kitty has trouble sleeping in new places. But you're so understanding. You won't mind, right?"

Sam paled. His mouth opened, closed, then stayed that way—no defense came.

A sharp, breathless pain stabbed through the numbness in my chest.

"Don't be nervous," I said, forcing a light tone as I took my seat at the table. "Of course I don't mind. She's just a pup. Being surrounded by familiar people helps her feel safe. Let's all have breakfast."

Lily, ever gracious, picked up a slice of bread and offered it to me.

"I made this myself. Try it. I even added your favorite—sweetgrass."

She smiled and winked at me.

"Sam told me you liked it. You have to finish the whole thing!"

I took the bread. The moment it touched my fingers, I recognized the scent.

It wasn't sweetgrass. It was something else entirely.

I set the bread gently back on the plate, my voice trembling with restrained fury.

"I didn't know you liked to bake with wolfsbane."

Lily's eyes filled with tears, her lower lip trembling.

"Echo… even if you don't like it, you don't have to accuse me like that."

Sam's face darkened with disapproval.

"Lily got up early just to make that for you. Why would she poison you? Don't be unreasonable, Echo."