My Alpha Stepbrother’s Hate Hides Our Fated Bond

"Miss, are you taking this or not?" the cafeteria worker asked, tapping her tongs against the metal counter.

"Yes, sorry," I said, handing over my meal card. "Just the grilled steak. Rare. No sauce."

"Add the roasted sweet potatoes," I told her, pointing to the next tray. "And a large black coffee."

"Feeding the Alpha again?" she muttered, sliding the heavy plastic tray toward me.

"He has a long training session today," I replied, forcing a polite smile.

I gripped the edges of the tray and turned around. The dining hall was a sea of noise. Hundreds of Lycan Academy students packed the tables, shouting over each other, trading food, and laughing.

"Watch your back, mutt," a senior warned, intentionally bumping my shoulder as he walked past.

I kept my balance and held the tray steady. The coffee sloshed against the rim of the paper cup, but the lid held.

I scanned the room. Ethan sat at the center table. The Alpha's spot. Jace and Thorne flanked him, arguing loudly about the morning sparring drills.

"I'm telling you, a low sweep takes out a pureblood every time," Jace argued, stabbing a fork into his salad.

"Only if they're too slow to jump," Thorne countered. "Right, Hale?"

Ethan didn't answer. He stared blankly at his empty hands resting on the table.

"Ethan," I said, stopping at the edge of the wood surface.

The laughter instantly died. Jace rolled his eyes, dropping his fork. Thorne leaned back, crossing his massive arms.

"What do you want, Lila?" Jace asked, his tone dripping with boredom.

I ignored him and kept my eyes on my stepbrother. "I brought your lunch."

I slid the tray onto the polished wood right in front of him. The plate settled with a soft clink.

"I noticed you skipped the dining hall yesterday," I said, keeping my voice light, trying to sound helpful. "You need protein after Coach Garrick's drills."

Ethan didn't look at the food. He slowly raised his head and locked his icy blue eyes onto mine.

His hand shot out.

He struck the edge of the plastic tray with the flat of his palm.

*Crash.*

The tray flew off the table. Ceramic shattered against the hard tile floor.

The rare steak bounced across the linoleum, leaving a trail of grease. The coffee cup burst open, splattering scalding dark liquid across my sneakers. It soaked instantly through my socks, burning my skin.

I gasped, jumping back.

The entire cafeteria went dead silent. Hundreds of conversations stopped in a single second. Forks hovered in mid-air. Every face turned toward the center table.

"Did I ask for a server?" Ethan’s voice cut through the quiet room like a sharpened blade.

"You always eat this after sparring," I whispered, staring at the ruined food.

"I eat what I choose. When I choose." He stood up, towering over me. "And I don't take handouts from you."

"I'm just trying to be a good sister," I pleaded, my hands shaking at my sides.

"Stop calling yourself that." His upper lip curled, exposing a flash of sharp white teeth. "Learn your place, Lila."

I shrank back. "I just wanted to make sure you ate."

"You think bringing me a meal changes anything?" he demanded, stepping closer. "You think playing the devoted little shadow makes us family?"

"We share a roof," I managed to say, my throat tightening.

"We share nothing." He pointed a rigid finger at the mess on the floor. "Stop these pathetic attempts to get my attention. It’s embarrassing."

"Ethan, please."

"Do not flatter yourself," he snapped, his tone dropping to a lethal, freezing calm. "We are siblings on paper. A legal technicality my father forced on me. Stop acting like there is a bond here. There isn't."

The words hit me harder than a physical blow.

"I understand," I choked out.

"Do you?" he pressed, refusing to let up. "Because every time I turn around, you are there, trying to force your way into a life you don't belong in. You cause misunderstandings. You make my pack look weak."

"Is she bothering you again, Alpha?"

A sweet, overly loud voice interrupted us.

Mia stepped out from the crowd of onlookers. She wore the senior uniform, her skirt hiked up, a confident smirk painted on her flawless face.

She walked right into Ethan’s personal space. Her hand flattened against his chest, her manicured nails dragging lightly over the fabric of his shirt.

"I told you to let me get your lunch today," Mia purred, tilting her head to look up at him.

I held my breath, waiting for the explosion. Waiting for him to dodge her touch the same violent way he avoided mine.

Ethan didn't shove her hand away.

He didn't flinch. He didn't dig his claws into his palms to stop himself from touching her.

He just stood there, letting her press her body against his arm, claiming him right in front of the entire school.

"I lost my appetite," Ethan told her, his voice softer than it had been a moment ago.

"Well, the smell of wet dog in here is pretty strong," Mia laughed. She turned her head and shot me a look of pure pity. "Clean that up, Lila. Someone might slip."

"Yeah, clean it up, half-breed," Thorne chimed in from the table.

"Make sure you get all the grease," Jace added, tossing his napkin onto the floor near my feet.

I dropped to my knees.

Laughter erupted around the room. The tension broke, replaced by cruel amusement. Whispers hissed from every table as students leaned in to watch.

"Look at her."

"Right where a mutt belongs."

"She really thought the future Alpha would eat scraps from her."

I scooped a piece of the ruined steak into my bare hands. Grease coated my fingers. The ceramic plate had broken into dozens of sharp shards.

I grabbed a jagged piece of the rim. My hand trembled. The sharp edge sliced deep into the pad of my thumb.

I hissed in pain. A single drop of bright red blood hit the white tile.

Above me, Ethan's heavy combat boots shifted. A harsh scraping sound echoed against the floor as he abruptly stepped back.

"Let's go," Ethan ordered. His voice sounded strangely strained, tighter than it had been a second ago.

"Coming," Mia chirped, linking her arm through his.

I kept my head down, staring at the mess of food and blood.

He hates me.

The realization settled into my bones, heavy and entirely cold. It wasn't just teenage rebellion. It wasn't just a phase he would grow out of. He despised my very existence. He repelled my care. He let another girl touch him, flaunt him, while I knelt in the garbage at his feet.

A terrifying thought crawled from the dark corners of my mind.

My eighteenth birthday was exactly one week away. The day my wolf would fully mature. The day the Moon Goddess revealed fated mates.

What if it was him?

My heart hammered against my ribs, driven by a secret, shameful affection I had buried for years. I had watched him train from my bedroom window. I had memorized his habits, his favorite foods, the exact scent of his pine and spice aura. I loved him in a way a sister never should.

But if the Goddess tied my soul to his... he would destroy me.

He would stand in front of the entire pack, look me in the eye, and sever the bond. He would throw me away just like the food on the floor. I would die from the rejection, and he wouldn't even blink.

I couldn't let that happen. If there was a bond, I had to run before he could reject me.

I gathered the last of the broken plate, my vision blurring with unshed tears.

The heavy cafeteria doors swung shut behind Ethan and Mia.

Suddenly, a sharp, burning pain pierced the exact center of my chest.

My inner wolf clawed frantically at the inside of my ribs, letting out a soundless howl of sheer agony.

I dropped the ceramic shards. I clutched my shirt, gasping for air. The pain wasn't coming from my bleeding thumb.

It was coming from the faint outline of the mate mark forming beneath my collarbone—and it was already turning black.