Desired by Mate's Alpha Brother

The silver locket slipped from my fingers as I fastened it around my neck, trembling just enough to make the clasp a challenge. Inside, the tiny photo of Logan and me smiled back—two kids with wind-tangled hair and sunburnt cheeks, pressed close like we thought nothing could ever separate us.

“Let me guess,” came Dad’s voice from the doorway, warm and amused. “Thinking about that boy again.”

I turned toward him, smoothing the midnight-blue gown I’d tried on three times before settling. “Do you think Logan will like this?” My voice cracked despite my best effort to sound confident.

Dad’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “Sweetheart, if that boy doesn’t lose his damn mind tonight, he’s even dumber than I thought.”

I laughed, but it didn’t stick. This wasn’t just any night. It was my Coming-of-Age Ball, the night I’d scent my true mate—and I already knew who that would be.

Logan Hayes.

The Alpha’s second son. My first kiss. My best friend since we were barely old enough to shift. This wasn’t just fate. It was history. It was legacy. The whole pack expected it.

Dad stepped forward and gently adjusted the chain around my neck. “But remember—tonight’s yours, Ava. Not his. No matter what happens, walk in there like you belong.”

I nodded, stealing one last glance at the mirror. I looked like a girl in love. Hopeful. Nervous. Clueless.

The pack house ballroom glittered like a fairytale, silver and white lights twining around marble columns. Laughter and music swelled through the air as couples spun across the floor, everyone dressed to dazzle.

Except I wasn’t looking at them.

I scanned the room, heart thudding harder with each passing second. Where was he?

“Ava!”

Harper Lewis—flawless in crimson silk and high heels sharper than her smile—swept over with a champagne flute in one hand. “You look insane tonight. Logan is going to faint. Or combust.”

“Thanks,” I said, voice tight. “Have you seen him?”

She paused—just a blink—but it was there. That flicker. Like she knew something I didn’t. “I think I saw him heading toward the east wing. Maybe needed air?”

“Right,” I said, trying to mask the sudden twist in my gut. I didn’t wait for her to say more.

I slipped past the crowd, offering polite nods to those who called my name. Laughter chased me from behind, but something colder curled ahead. At the edge of the ballroom, I passed Connor Hayes.

He stood alone, a tall silhouette in black, drink untouched, gaze cutting through the celebration like he didn’t belong to it. His eyes locked with mine, unreadable. I looked away too fast.

Connor always looked at me like I was a puzzle he didn’t care to solve.

The east wing was quiet. No music, no laughter. Just footsteps echoing against stone. I should’ve gone back. I should’ve called his name and waited for his smile.

Instead, I heard it.

A breathy, feminine moan. Soft, unmistakable.

I froze. My hands clenched around the skirt of my gown, heart pounding in my ears. Don’t go forward, something whispered. Don’t do it.

But I did.

I crept closer, heels clicking like drumbeats. Around the next corner, the corridor narrowed into an alcove—and there they were.

Logan. And Brianna Carter.

His hand was fisted in her hair. Her head tilted back against the wall, lips parted as his mouth traveled down her neck. Her dress was askew. His shirt—half unbuttoned.

“Logan,” she whispered, needy and smug all at once.

My breath left my lungs.

“What the hell is this?”

My voice wasn’t loud. But it cut.

They jolted apart. Logan turned, and for a second, his face collapsed in guilt. Then it vanished. His spine straightened, expression cooling like I was a stranger.

“Ava,” he said evenly. “I didn’t want you to find out like this.”

“Too late for that,” I said, trying to steady my voice. “Tell me this is a mistake.”

Brianna smirked and curled into his side, her hand resting low on his stomach. “Sorry, sweetheart. He just finally realized what he wants.”

“No.” I stepped closer. “We’re—Logan, we’re mates. We were supposed to scent each other tonight.”

His eyes darkened, but he didn’t reach for me. He didn’t say my name like it meant something.

Instead, he said, “You thought we were mates. But we’re not. And I can’t pretend anymore.”

The words landed like slaps. I felt each one. I wanted to scream, to cry, to run—but I stood there, frozen.

“You think this is about scent?” Brianna said, laughing. “He chose me. He chose strength.”

And then I realized.

We weren’t alone.

People had gathered—Harper among them, eyes shining with wicked delight. Whispers rippled down the corridor, hungry for drama. My humiliation had an audience.

Logan’s voice grew louder, firmer. “I need a Luna who can lead beside me. Not someone still playing house with a childhood crush.”

“Logan—”

“We were kids, Ava. It was never real. You just couldn’t let go.”

I touched the locket at my throat, fingers numb. The hallway blurred at the edges. My heart shattered—not all at once, but crack by crack.

And he just stood there. Watching.

I didn’t break. Not in front of them.

I turned and shoved past the crowd, refusing to let them see my tears. I didn’t stop moving until the corridor twisted and turned again—until the voices were gone.

Then I ran straight into a wall of muscle.

Connor.

His arms were crossed, his eyes unreadable. Not cold this time. Not warm either. Just there—watching.

“You okay?” he asked softly.

It wasn’t pity. It wasn’t mockery. Just a question.

“Did you know?” I asked, voice hollow. “Did you know this would happen?”

His jaw tightened. “Logan’s predictable.”

I hated him. In that moment, I hated everything. But somehow, his steadiness held me up.

“You stood there and watched me walk into it.”

He shrugged. “I figured you needed to see it for yourself.”

That stung more than anything Logan had said.

“You’re a bastard,” I whispered.

Connor didn’t flinch. “Maybe. But I’m not the one who broke your heart.”

And just like that, the tears came. Silent, hot, impossible to stop.

He didn’t move. He just stood there, watching me fall apart.