ON MY BIRTHDAY!

Selene’s POV

I should have known better. Five years ago, when Evelyn disappeared without a trace, leaving a trail of unanswered questions, I should have never accepted Callan’s proposal. I should have questioned everything—the way Callum’s sudden affection swept over me, his proposal of alliance between our packs with our marriage. I should have known that all his proclamations of love were just an act.

But back then, I wanted to believe. I dared to dream, dared to believe that he could love me as deeply as I had always loved him. I wanted to believe that the mate bond we had was deep and he was starting to feel it. But boy, I was wrong.

Warm tears slid down my cheeks, stinging against the cold, numbed skin of my face as I stood there, staring at the scene before me. They didn’t even have the decency to hide it. I had always believed Callum held some respect for me, that even if his love had faded, he would still shield me from this humiliation. But there he was, utterly lost in his own desires, his hands exploring my sister’s skin in ways he had never touched mine.

And Evelyn—my sister, my blood. Why was she so determined to break me, to hurt me in ways only a sister could? What had I done to deserve this? I’d spent my life trying to be enough, to carve out even a small corner of happiness, even if Evelyn had always been everyone’s favorite and I was hidden beneath her shadows.

Callum was my true mate, bound to me by fate, a bond that was meant to be sacred. Yet Evelyn had made it her mission to taunt me at every turn. Growing up, she’d always known how I felt about him, yet she pursued him, with that smug smile, as if she could claim anything that mattered to me without a second thought.

I had clung to my bond with Callum, to the belief that mates were destined, that Evelyn’s games would end in time. But the hurt kept piling up, cut by cut, betrayal by betrayal, until my wounds were raw and unhealing. Even after Evelyn left without a word, abandoning Callum and leaving him broken and heartbroken, I had hoped that would be the end of it. I’d thought that her disappearance might finally allow Callum to see me, to recognize the love that had been standing by him all these years, so patient and loving.

I could still remember those early days of our marriage. Callum had been kind, though distant, and while we didn’t share the passionate love I had once dreamed of, I told myself it would come. I’d believed that with time, his heart might soften, that our connection would deepen.

Every morning, I made him breakfast, hoping he would sit across from me, maybe even smile, that he would meet my gaze with something warmer than polite acknowledgment. But it never came, the warm smile I was expecting never came. He did everything with me like it was his duty, only touched me or even breathed the same air as me when we were in gatherings, and as soon as we were back home, we became strangers again.

And then it all stopped all of a sudden, even the little I was managing from him came to end. He stopped eating with me, always saying he was too tired after work or had no appetite. Little excuses, but I knew I was losing him.

Eventually, he stopped sleeping beside me altogether. I tried to convince myself it was due to the pressures of leading the pack, that he was simply stressed. But as his indifference grew, the truth slowly, painfully, began to dawn on me. I’d catch glimpses of his eyes turning away, as if he were repelled by the mere sight of me. His voice grew colder, his touch absent, and then, finally, he stopped looking at me altogether. That was when I knew—he had never really been mine. Perhaps he would never be.

The weight of that truth pressed down on me, a heavy ache in my chest that made it hard to breathe. For years, I had kept myself going by pretending, by holding on to the fragile thread of hope that he would eventually come around. But standing here now, watching him entwined with Evelyn, that thread snapped, leaving me with nothing but the raw, brutal truth I’d been too afraid to see. I had been nothing more than a replacement, a temporary comfort for Callum’s loneliness. And Evelyn—she had always been the one he truly wanted.

My fists clenched at my sides as I thought of Evelyn’s face, that smirk she’d worn since we were children, a look that could make me doubt myself in an instant. Evelyn had always had a way of saying things, of making me feel small, less than. And now, after all these years, she was back, slipping into the life I had fought so hard to build, taking the man who was supposed to be my partner, my mate.

The sound of my heartbeat thundered in my ears, loud and relentless, drowning out my ragged, shallow breaths. My legs weakened, and I reached out to steady myself, gripping the doorframe as if it could somehow anchor me to something solid, something untainted by Evelyn’s poison. Did she even think of me, of the pain she was causing? Did she feel even a single shred of guilt? Or was this just another game to her, another way to prove that I would never measure up?

It wasn’t fair. She had left him broken and devastated, locked in his room for days after she vanished, unable to pull himself together. And I—I had tried so desperately to pick up the pieces, to make him whole, even as my own heart ached for him. But here she was again, back as if she’d never left, taking what she wanted without a single thought for anyone else.

A sharp laugh broke through my thoughts, slicing into the silence like a blade. I could hear Evelyn’s voice, low and flirtatious, followed by Callum’s deeper tones, both of them lost in their own world. Every word cut into me, fresh wounds on top of old scars, and I could feel my resolve cracking, giving way to the pain that had been building inside me for years.

My vision blurred, my tears falling freely now, unchecked. I wanted to scream, to break something, to let loose the torrent of pain that was tearing me apart from the inside. But the silence around me was suffocating, pressing in on me, a reminder of all the years I had spent binding myself to someone who had never truly been mine.

I should leave, I told myself. I should walk away, preserve what little dignity I had left, and never look back. But my feet felt rooted to the floor, my legs refusing to obey, my eyes locked on the sight before me, even as my vision blurred with tears.

Anger rose in my throat, hot and bitter, mixing with the crushing heartache that felt like it would tear me apart. Today was supposed to be a happy day—my birthday, a day I could have some small piece of joy for myself in a life that had become a stranger to happiness.

But all I got was this. My husband, my mate, fucking my sister on our matrimonial bed.

Happy birthday to me.