
I Became the Mate of My Deceased Husband's Twin Brother
Chapter 2
Isla's POV
Tired of waiting for the food Bryce promised, I endured the infirmary food. Waiting for him felt like a waste of time, and I wasn’t going to let myself starve.
Soon after, my group leader, Millie Hansley, arrived with herbal medicines. "Isla, I know Evergreen Mountain is dangerous, but you're still coming on this mission, right?" she asked, hopeful. Millie knew about my bond with Bryce, unlike most, and I considered her a sister.
Bryce had always tried to keep me from dangerous missions, but I wasn’t giving up this time. My dream was to explore and protect the wilderness, but I had pushed that aside for Bryce. Over the years, I centered my life around him, while he placed Lucia above me, always with some excuse about honoring his late master’s wishes.
"Don’t worry, I won’t abandon you guys," I replied firmly.
Millie's face lit up. “That’s the spirit! There’s still so much we haven’t discovered on Evergreen Mountain. I heard there are rare herbal plants in the untouched areas. We’ll make sure to find them.”
She knew exactly how to fire me up. My passion for gathering herbs had always been a driving force, a reason I became a hunter in the first place. This mission was my chance to reclaim a piece of myself I had long set aside.
Millie was about to continue when Bryce entered the room, empty-handed. I knew he had forgotten his promise of bringing me food.
Noticing him, Millie quickly excused herself.
Bryce walked over, a familiar scowl on his face. “Do you have any idea how dangerous Evergreen Mountain is? Why must you be so stubborn and make others worry about you?"
I met his gaze, my glowing yellow eyes narrowing. "Worried about me? You were busy flirting with Lucia while we were under attack by rogues. What right do you have to lecture me now?" My voice was cold, biting. The anger that had simmered for days finally surfaced.
I saw his eyes turn red, but I didn’t wait for a reply. I turned my back to him, lying down on the infirmary bed. Just a few seconds later, I heard the door being slammed so hard. He was probably angry too, but as if I care.
Days passed without any sign of him. The silence didn’t bother me as much as it once would have. I had learned the hard way that Bryce only cared about me when it was convenient for him.
I was busy reviewing the details of our upcoming mission when his voice suddenly echoed in my mind through a mindlink.
'My friend asked me out tonight. I’ll be late. I’ll come by after.'
But as if I heard nothing, I continued what I was doing. Besides, it always happened, so it was not something to discuss.
He was Alpha Rowan's adopted son. People fawned over him, constantly trying to get close. And I, the ordinary she-wolf, was supposed to feel lucky that he even noticed me. At least, that’s what everyone kept telling me.
Moments later, his voice returned through the mindlink, more insistent this time.
'It’s just a few buddies, all guys.'
Then, he sent me a picture of his friends, which he had never done before. They were indeed all male. But what did it matter now? He’d never introduced me to any of his friends. That alone told me everything.
Sighing, I switched my phone to silent and lay down, trying to rest. When I woke up, I noticed more than a dozen missed calls. Bryce’s name flashed across the screen. Frowning, I answered, bracing myself for whatever storm he was about to unleash.
“Why weren’t you answering?!” His voice was sharp, laced with irritation.
“I was asleep,” I replied, rubbing my eyes, too tired to care.
"I’ve already explained everything to you. I didn’t know you were hurt. Lucia was terrified that night—I couldn’t leave her! And now, you’re sulking again. You’re not a pup anymore, Isla. Why do you always get so jealous?" His words hit me like a slap, though I wasn’t sure why they still had the power to sting. I wasn’t angry. I was just done caring.
Sure, before, every time he went somewhere with his buddies, I couldn't relax. It was because his friends loved to play around. Back then, I was always worried, frequently calling to check on him. But all I got was Bryce's disgust. He would always say, “What is it again, Isla? Can't you stop being so clingy?” If not that, it was, “Isla, do you enjoy following people around like a lost pup?”
Back then, I was too afraid of losing him the reason I acted like that. But what I would never forget was when he told me, “It's so hard to be with you, Isla!”
Brushing off my thoughts, I sighed heavily and calmly replied, “I’m not jealous."
A sigh echoed through the phone, as if he was trying to control his temper. "I’ve drunk too much tonight. Sorry," he mumbled, softer now.
Having nothing to say, I didn't reply.
After a long silence, Bryce repeated, “I've drunk too much.”
Hearing no response from me, Bryce finally hung up the phone. He had drunk too much, and did he expect me, with my injured leg, to go pick him up? He had friends to take care of him tonight. He didn’t need me.