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I Left After My Mate Chose My Sister Novel Cover

I Left After My Mate Chose My Sister

On the day of her eighteenth birthday, Ava expects to find her fated mate. Instead, Caleb, the Alpha’s son, publicly rejects her to be with her younger sister. Crushed by the betrayal and the pack’s malice, she flees to start anew. Years later, Ava returns as a formidable, independent rogue. Now, she must confront her painful past and the man who shattered her heart, all while protecting the secrets she has kept hidden for so long.
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Chapter 2

The ceremonial Pack Run was supposed to be my moment. As Max's future Luna, I should have been running at his side, leading the Blood River Pack through the forest paths. Instead, I found myself constantly sidelined, watching as Sasha effortlessly maneuvered herself between Max and me.

"Keep up, Tessa," Max called over his shoulder, his powerful black wolf form accelerating ahead. I pushed myself harder, my grey wolf form struggling to match his pace.

Just as I closed the distance, Sasha darted forward, her sleek brown form cutting me off. She nudged against Max's flank, and he responded instantly, nuzzling her neck.

"This is the path I used to patrol when we were pups," Max said through the mind-link, his voice warm with nostalgia. "Remember, Sasha?"

"Of course I do," she replied, her mental voice honey-sweet. "You always took the eastern ridge first, then circled back through the hollow oak."

I froze mid-stride. That was my memory—Max had shown me that path during my first shift, when he'd secretly guarded my perimeter. How did Sasha know?

"The howl you taught me," Max continued, "the one that echoes across three valleys."

He lifted his muzzle and released a haunting call that sent shivers down my spine. It was the same howl he'd used to signal me during our private meetings.

Sasha answered with a perfect harmonizing howl, as if they'd practiced together for years.

I trailed behind them, my paws kicking up dust as they raced ahead. Every movement, every call between them felt choreographed—a dance they'd perfected without me.

---

"The Moon Stone has blessed countless Alphas and Lunas," Max explained as we approached the sacred clearing later that evening. "Tonight, it will bless us too."

The massive white stone gleamed in the twilight, its surface etched with ancient pack symbols. Max had brought me here for a private ritual before tomorrow's ceremony—a gesture that should have warmed my heart.

"I want to recreate something special," he said, leading me toward a small grove of wildflowers. "When I first realized you were important to me."

He pointed to a cluster of bright yellow blooms—sunflowers. I hated sunflowers. They reminded me of funeral homes and cheap roadside stands.

"They're beautiful," I lied, forcing a smile.

"They remind me of you," Max said, though his eyes darted toward the tree line where Sasha stood partially hidden. She must have followed us.

As we walked back toward the Moon Stone, my foot caught on an exposed root. I stumbled forward, twisting my ankle against a sharp rock. Pain shot up my leg.

"Max," I gasped, reaching for him.

Before I could say more, a soft whimper floated from the trees. Sasha stepped into view, rubbing her arm where a small scratch had appeared.

"Max, I'm sorry," she said, her voice trembling. "I just wanted to see the ritual."

Max immediately dropped my hand and rushed to her side. "Don't apologize, my fragile flower," he murmured, examining the barely visible mark. "Are you hurt? Let me see."

I sat in the dirt, my ankle throbbing, watching as he cradled her wrist and blew gently on the scratch.

---

The Pack House bustled with activity as servants prepared for tomorrow's ceremony. No one noticed me slip into my room, locking the door behind me.

I placed my Luna pendant—a silver crescent moon embedded with moonstones—on my pillow. Beside it, I laid the note I'd written earlier: "I am not the wolf you need. Be with the one you chose."

My hands trembled as I uncorked the small vial of Forest Mist. The scent-masking potion smelled of burnt herbs and something acrid—wolfsbane, perhaps.

"To new beginnings," I whispered, tipping the vial against my lips.

The liquid burned like fire down my throat, coating my insides with a bitter film that would neutralize my scent. I coughed, tears streaming down my face.

When the worst of the burning subsided, I shouldered my small bag and crept down the service stairs at the back of the Pack House.

The northern border was miles away, but I had to try. Every step stretched the mate bond thinner, like a rubber band pulled to its breaking point.

I shifted into my wolf form—sleek and grey and unremarkable. The perfect escape vehicle.

As I sprinted toward the border, the bond between Max and me pulled painfully in my chest. But with each yard of distance I put between us, a strange lightness began to replace the pain.

Freedom tasted bittersweet on my tongue as I ran into the gathering darkness, leaving behind everything I'd ever known.

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