My Brother Stabbed My Secret Lover — And I Had To Trade My Soul To Save Him

Part 1

Brian pinned me against the rough bark of an oak tree, his chest heaving as he stared down at me with absolute fury.

We had been fighting exactly like this since we were eight years old.

Our families led rival shifter packs that shared a heavily disputed border in the deep, ancient woods.

My father raised me to hate every single member of the Silver Pine pack, especially their golden-boy future alpha.

I dedicated my entire childhood to making Brian’s existence an absolute living nightmare.

When we were kids, I memorized the sprawling forest terrain better than he ever could.

I tracked and dragged a massive, dangerous bear back to our camp during a rite-of-passage hunt just to snatch the victory crown from his head.

I grew taller, stronger, and more lethal solely so I could wipe that arrogant, effortless smirk off his face.

I trained until my muscles screamed, desperate to prove that I was better than him in every conceivable way.

But somewhere along the way, the violent nature of our sparring sessions began to change.

We started sneaking out of our respective camps late at night just to find each other in the darkness.

Our closed fists turned into bruising grips, and our furious, breathless taunts melted into heavy, desperate silence.

I remember the exact night the line between rivalry and something far more dangerous blurred beyond recognition.

We were sparring near the river when he caught my leg mid-kick and twisted me off balance.

He flipped us over, pinning my shoulders firmly to the damp forest floor.

His hazel eyes darkened into a deep, stormy green that sent a sudden shiver down my spine.

I felt the dangerous, searing scrape of his teeth against the sensitive skin of my neck.

He scrambled backward as if he had touched an open flame, his chest heaving as he stared at me.

I was only thirteen then, but I knew exactly what a bite mark meant in our world.

It meant claiming a mate for life.

We actively avoided each other for several years after that terrifying near-miss.

I pushed my body through grueling combat drills until my knuckles bled, needing my father to see me as a worthy leader.

But no matter how hard I fought, I couldn’t stop dreaming about the heavy weight of Brian’s hands on my skin.

When I turned seventeen, I couldn’t take the suffocating distance anymore.

I finally tracked him down and cornered him in our old meeting spot in the woods.

He immediately dropped into a defensive stance, but I didn’t want to throw punches anymore.

I grabbed his face and kissed him with all the pent-up rage and agonizing longing I had bottled up for years.

He responded with a brutal ferocity that stole the breath right out of my lungs.

From that night on, we secretly belonged to each other.

We were natural enemies by day and desperate, ravenous lovers by night.

I lied straight to the face of my twin brother, Tyler.

I lied repeatedly to my strict, calculating father.

I risked my future standing in our pack just for a single stolen hour with Brian beneath the moonlight.

But secrets in a wolf pack never stay buried for long, especially when scent tells no lies.

We were hanging out at a crowded local bar when a guy from my pack named Dan casually slung his arm around my shoulders.

Dan suddenly frowned, his nose twitching aggressively as he leaned closer to my neck.

“Why do you smell like him?” he barked, his eyes narrowing as he pointed across the room.

Ice flooded my veins, the thumping bass of the club fading into a deafening silence.

Brian was standing across the room by the pool tables, his posture instantly stiffening.

Tyler stepped between Dan and me, his eyes flashing with protective, brotherly fury.

My brother shoved his way through the dense crowd, throwing his weight forward to pin Brian’s spine against the brick wall.

He pinned Brian by the collar, teeth bared, shouting that he wouldn’t let an attack in the woods go unpunished.

I pushed between them, my voice cracking as I lied about a minor border skirmish, but the damage was done.

Fists started flying wildly between the members of our two rival packs.

Brian roared a booming alpha command that froze every single person in the bar.

He shoved my brother away and glared at me with absolute, cutting ice in his eyes.

“She’s a random wolf,” he sneered, squaring his broad shoulders. “She means nothing to me.”

The cruel words felt like a physical, suffocating blow to my chest.

Later that night, we met in the deepest shadows of the woods, and I shoved my fists against his chest, the hurt clawing at my throat.

He grabbed my jaw forcefully, his eyes glowing a vibrant, furious gold in the dark.

“I want you to be mine,” he growled, pulling me closer, but the words only made my stomach twist in cold knots.

I slapped his hand away, a tremor shaking my frame as I imagined the war my father would start if he discovered the truth.

The gold faded from Brian’s eyes, his shoulders sagging as the tension drained from his frame.

He let me go, turned his broad back on me, and walked away into the consuming shadows.

The very next morning, my father summoned Tyler and me into his private study, dismissing the two armed guards at the door.

He puffed out his chest, a wide grin stretching across his face as he named me the next alpha of our pack.

A hollow ringing filled my ears, my hands going limp at my sides.

I had finally achieved my lifelong dream, but my throat tightened at the thought of ruling without the only person I wanted.

Then, my father unlocked a hidden, reinforced safe tucked behind his massive bookcase.

He traced the edges of a protective leather sheath, withdrawing an ancient, ornate weapon with deliberate slowness.

My dad placed a poisoned dagger into my brother’s hands, telling us its single prick could kill any member of Brian’s pack instantly.