The Alpha's Forbidden Sister

Five years ago, my father, Marcus Quinn, the former Beta of Blackridge Pack, died in a border war. Alpha Gideon Hale brought me into his home and promised to keep me safe. His son, Rowan, became my closest friend and the one I loved.

I was twenty-one when my wolf finally awakened. The change came with a dangerous scent, restless dreams, and a bond I could not explain. Rowan felt it too, yet he buried every reaction beneath the same word he had used for years.

Sister.

By nightfall, I was standing outside his bedroom, carrying a secret I had never dared to show him.

The estate was quiet. I went into Rowan's bedroom. Lying in the center of Rowan’s massive bed, I clutched one of his worn black t-shirts against my face, inhaling deeply. My other hand gripped the silicone dildo Tessa had bought me as a joke for my twenty-first birthday. It wasn't a joke anymore.

"Rowan..." I whimpered, tossing my head back against his pillows.

I was on my knees, my thighs spread wide as I arched my back like a desperate bitch in heat. I slid the thick silicone deep inside my slick folds, pulling it out and driving it back in with frantic, sloppy sounds.

I closed my eyes, imagining it wasn't silicone at all. I imagined Rowan's heavy hands pinning my hips, his eyes blazing with possession, commanding me to get on my knees and serve him the way I secretly craved.

"Please... Rowan..." I sobbed, my hips snapping back against the toy.

Click.

My eyes flew open. My heart stopped entirely.

The bedroom door opened. Rowan walked in.

For a split second, time completely froze. His gaze dropped from my flushed face, to his shirt clutched in my fist, down to the silicone shaft buried between my spreading thighs.

I scrambled to pull the toy out, my face burning with a humiliation so absolute it brought tears to my eyes. "Rowan, I—I didn't—"

He walked to the bed quickly. Before I could scramble backward, his large hand clamped down on my ankle, dragging me across the mattress toward him. He shoved me flat onto my back and took the fake toy from my hand.

"Is this what you do?" he asked. His voice was very cold.

"Please give it back," I cried out, trying to cover myself, but he grabbed both of my wrists and pinned them above my head with one hand.

"Give it back?" he sneered, his gaze dropping to my soaked, trembling center. "Can this fake thing satisfy you?"

Before I could answer, he positioned the slick toy against my entrance and drove it in—hard.

I screamed, my back arching off the mattress. Rowan pumped the toy in and out of me with a brutal, unforgiving rhythm. He was punishing me, yet his eyes burned with a starving desperation.

I cried. It felt too good.

"Look at you," he growled, his thumb brushing away my tears. "You're so desperate for it, aren't you?"

"Yes," I sobbed, completely broken under his touch. "Yes, Rowan, please—"

I was right on the edge of climax when a voice echoed from the staircase.

"Rowan? Are you there?"

Mara, Rowan's mother, froze. He stopped moving. He pulled the toy out and hid it. He threw a big blanket over me, burying me in the dark just as the door swung open.

"Mara," Rowan said. He stood next to the bed.

"The council agreed," Mara said loudly from the first floor. "You will marry Celine Armitage."

Beneath the heavy covers, my blood ran instantly cold.

A pain ripped through my chest. He was going to marry someone else. He was going to mark another woman, while I was suffocating in his bed, wet and aching for a man who would only ever call me his sister.

A toxic, bitter wave of jealousy washed away my shame.

I looked at his pants in the dark. He had a hard erection.

You want to marry Celine? I thought, a wicked, desperate heat flooding my veins. Let’s see how well you can talk about your bride right now.

I reached out and opened his zipper. Rowan’s breath hitched audibly. "...The council's terms are acceptable, Mara."

I leaned forward, parted my lips, and took his cock deep into my mouth.

Rowan gasped loudly. "The terms are good," he told Mara. His voice shook.

"Are you feeling alright, Rowan?" Mara asked, her voice tinged with mild confusion. "You look pale."

"I'm fine," Rowan gritted out, his voice dropping an octave, tight with agonizing restraint. "Just a long patrol."

I swirled my tongue around the sensitive ridge, bobbing my head down. His hand reached under the blanket, burying into my hair. He wasn't pushing me away. His hand grabbed my head as he subtly thrust his hips forward, using my mouth.

"We need to plan the party," Mara said.

"We will talk tomorrow," Rowan said, his breathing turning ragged.

"Very well. Dinner is at seven." The door closed.

He pushed my head down, burying himself as deep as he could against my throat. Thick, hot waves of his release flooded my mouth. I swallowed it.

Then, the warmth was ripped away. He fixed his pants.

"Get up," he said. His voice was cold again.

I sat up slowly, wiping the corner of my mouth, my heart breaking all over again. "Rowan..."

"You heard Mara," he said. "I will marry Celine. You are my sister."

I stared at him.

He had just filled my mouth with his seed, yet he could still stand there as if I nothing had happened.

I picked up my clothes with trembling hands, past him out the door. I finally realized that Rowan Hale would destroy the world to keep me safe, but he would never, ever claim me as his own.