The meeting dragged on, and when it finally wrapped, Derek's eyes flicked to the unfamiliar she-wolf standing off to the side. His brow furrowed, just enough to notice. "Who's she?" he asked me, a hint of surprise in his voice.

"Kayla, my new secretary," I said calmly. "She'll be handling meeting notes from now on."

Derek nodded, thoughtful. "Nice. Frees you up from the small stuff."

Small stuff? I bit back a cold laugh. Those "small stuff" notes were hours of me sifting through chaotic discussions to pull out the sharpest, clearest points just so he could skim them without a headache. All that effort, and to him, it was just. extra.

Kayla handed him the meeting summary, her hands practically trembling. Derek flipped through it, his frown deepening with every page. When she left the room, he turned to me, his voice warm and familiar. "You know me best, Rachel. This new one's notes are way too wordy."

He waited, probably expecting me to take the file and fix it like always. Instead, I just smiled. "Give her a shot."

He blinked, thrown off, but recovered quick. Before he could say more, his phone lit up with a message. I caught a glimpse-his best friend inviting him to an engagement party, with a note to bring a date.

"Want me to come with?" I asked, my voice soft but testing him.

His face shifted, a mix of emotions I couldn't quite pin down. He pulled me into his arms, his tone all warm and protective. "That scene's not for you. Bunch of spoiled wolves. I wouldn't want you stuck in that mess."

I eased out of his hold. "Good, 'cause I've got plans tonight anyway. Gotta head out."

Worried I sounded too sharp, I added, "Be back early."

Relief washed over his face. He brushed a kiss on my cheek. "You're the best, babe. Next time, I'll take you to a real gathering, show you off to the whole pack."

His sincerity almost made me laugh. Five years, and the first time he talks about going public is when I've already checked out.

I turned toward the door, tossing over my shoulder, "Sure, next time."

The door clicked shut, and I knew there'd never be a next time.

As I figured, Derek's "date" was Alyssa. At the party, under glittering lights and clinking glasses, she floated in a sleek white dress, clinging to his arm. Her cheeks flushed, she leaned into him, and the crowd ate it up.

"Alyssa's looking stunning these days."

"Perfect match for Derek, right?"

Everyone conveniently ignored their old "sibling" tie. Alyssa wasn't blood, so to them, they were just another pair of wolves circling each other.

After the party, Alyssa, tipsy and swaying, slumped in Derek's passenger seat. Her fingers toyed with his sleeve. "Derek. I can't go back to that hotel. I'm scared. Can I crash at your place 'til the cooling-off period's over?"

His grip tightened on the wheel. Logic screamed to say no-how would he explain this to me? If his pack found out, it'd be a mess. But one look at her teary eyes and flushed face, and he was steering toward home.

Then, at the doorstep, he froze. There I was, talking with Brian, the pack's hotshot second-gen lawyer, both of us holding a file. Derek's heart must've skipped, because he rushed over, Alyssa still on his arm.

"What's going on?" His eyes locked on the papers. "Who's breaking a bond?"

The file looked familiar, but before he could get a good look, I slipped it into my bag. "Tara's splitting from her mate," I said smoothly. "I'm helping her sort it out."

Tara, my best friend, was my go-to excuse.

I shifted gears, glancing at Alyssa, who was practically plastered to him. "What's with Alyssa? Too much to drink?"

Derek's guilt flashed, his focus snapping away from the file. "Her ex's pack is giving her hell," he mumbled. "She's staying with us for a bit."

He turned to me, his voice taking on that lecturing tone. "Even if it's for a friend, you shouldn't be out this late with some wolf you barely know."

I looked at Alyssa, draped over him, and the irony hit like a brick. This wolf, who treated me like a little sister, was cradling his "real" sister like a lover.

"Brian, let's wrap up for tonight," I said, keeping my voice steady.

Brian's flirty eyes-those signature charmers-flicked to Alyssa, then back to me. He grinned. "You know, I still haven't met Derek's mate."

Brian's eyes flicked between me and Alyssa, a sly grin playing on his lips. "So, Derek's mate is.?"

"None of your business," Derek snapped, cutting him off, clearly not eager to spill who I was.

Brian nodded smoothly, unfazed. "My bad. Open bonds are so common these days, I figured you were. you know. Don't worry, I know how to stay in my lane." He flashed a charming smile before adding, "If you ever need to break a bond, Derek, hit me up. I'll give you a discount."

Derek's gaze shot to me, his voice icy. "My mate and I are solid."

Brian was already strolling away, probably not even catching the words. But Alyssa heard every one.

She leaned into Derek, her "drunken" act in full swing, eyes big and watery. "Derek. am I in the way? Messing up your time with your mate?"

Before he could answer, her eyes brimmed with tears, and she started to pull away. "You're not my brother anymore. you've got your own pack now. I shouldn't be here. I'll go back to the hotel."

Derek tugged her closer, his voice so soft it could melt stone. "I'm not your brother anymore, Alyssa. And you're always welcome to stir things up."

His eyes burned with a heat that nearly set her aglow, like he was one breath from saying he didn't want to be her brother at all.

I stood there, an outsider watching their little drama unfold.

Derek finally seemed to remember I existed, loosening his hold on Alyssa. "Babe," he said, guilt creeping into his tone, "you don't mind, right? Alyssa's like my sister."

He was already planning how to smooth over my jealousy later.

I forced a tight smile. "Not at all."

Those words floated out, light as air, but they cut into my heart like a blade.

The next morning, I woke up and reached for Derek's side of the bed. Cold, as expected. I slipped on my robe and padded barefoot to the third-floor hallway, looking down at Alyssa's room on the second floor.

Through the half-open door, I saw Derek feeding her soup, careful and gentle. She pouted, whining about the heat, and he blew on the spoon to cool it. She fussed about her messy hair, and he grabbed a comb, tying it into a neat ponytail with practiced ease.

My nails dug into my palms.

I thought of the time I drank myself sick at a business dinner, stomach bleeding, and Derek just had the housekeeper make me soup. Or when I asked him to tie my hair into a simple low ponytail, and he shrugged, saying, "I don't know how."

I stood frozen, watching until they left together. My legs were numb, but I refused to go downstairs. I didn't want to face them-didn't want to feel like some pathetic clown, the villain in a cheesy romance novel, standing in the way of their "true love."

Lost in my head, I missed a step on my way down. My body lurched, and I hit the floor hard.

A scream tore from my throat as sharp pain stabbed through my abdomen. I curled up, feeling warm liquid seeping between my legs.

My face went pale. My trembling hand reached for my stomach, a horrible thought crashing into me.

"Madam!" The housekeeper rushed over, panicking at the blood pooling beneath me. "I-I'm calling 911!"

The wail of the ambulance shattered the morning quiet.

In the hospital, a nurse's urgent voice cut through the haze. "Where's the patient's guardian? We need a signature!"

The housekeeper was frantic. "I've called the master a dozen times-no answer! Tried the madam's phone too, seventeen calls, nothing."

I opened my eyes, weak, grabbing the nurse's sleeve. "I'll. sign it myself. The pup. I don't want it."

My voice was barely a whisper, but it carried the weight of a thousand stones.

I thought back to the last two months. Derek wanted to try for a pup, so I'd stopped tracking my cycle. This unexpected life, now slipping away just as suddenly.

This pup wasn't born from love. It didn't belong in this world, not now.

The healer's face was grim. "It's dangerous. We might be able to save the pup, but-"

"No," I said, eyes shutting as tears slid down my cheeks.

On the cold operating table, the harsh white lights blinded me. The scrape of the instruments echoed, each sound carving out a piece of my heart. I bit my lip until I tasted blood, refusing to let a single sob escape.