My Sister Stole My Mate, And I Let Her

Chapter 528 A SECOND CHANCE (BONUS - 6)

EVELYN’S POV’Gods, I hope my breath isn’t stale.’

That was probably not the appropriate thought to have when Lucian stood so close that I could feel the uneven rhythm of his breathing in the space between us, could see the conflict tearing through him with every rise and fall of his chest.

Moonlight spilled through the windows beside us, washing the corridor in silver and shadow, and beneath it, his silver-ringed eyes looked unreal.

Wild. Dangerous.

There was so much...need there. And fear, too.

From the little I knew about werewolves, I understood enough to know that the full moon was affecting him. That, beneath its light, the wolf and the man blurred together in ways humans and witches would never comprehend.

I knew I should have been afraid of the look in his eyes.

I knew I should have pushed him away and run for the hills.

Instead, warmth spread through me in slow, bewildering waves even as my heart pounded a wild rhythm against my ribcage.

Because here, trapped in the cage of his body, I wasn’t afraid.

I felt warm. Safe.

Hungry.

The realization startled me enough that my breath caught.

I wasn’t a wolf subject to the full moon’s pull, but I wasn’t a wolf who should have been subject to the concept of mates either.

I had no frame of reference for the heat warming my skin, the sudden, almost painful desire setting my nerves aflame.

"Push me away." Lucian’s voice emerged rough and strained enough that it barely sounded like him.

His forehead lowered until it rested against mine, and a shiver ran through me as electricity coursed through my veins.

"Please."

The word broke something inside me.

He should have been asking for permission; instead, he was asking for rescue.

As if he believed I needed saving from him.

As if he still couldn’t see the difference between the monster Catherine had tried to turn him into and the man standing in front of me now.

I really should have pushed him away. That was the rational course of action.

But rationality and whatever was happening between me and Lucian did not exist in the same plane of existence.

I shook my head.

His eyes widened as I slowly, uncertainly reached forward and curled my fingers into the fabric of his shirt.

Then I pulled him closer.

The startled sound that escaped him was so soft I almost thought I’d imagined it.

His scent enveloped me instantly, and my mind was too hazy to untangle the individual notes from the unmistakable wolfness threaded through them—something wild, masculine, and uniquely, devastatingly him.

The warmth spreading through me intensified until it felt as though my own magic had awakened beneath my skin, restless and curious, reaching toward something it had spent my entire life searching for without ever realizing it.

Emotions rose inside me that I didn’t have a frame of reference for: longing so intense it hurt, an impossible sense of recognition, deep and absolute, that didn’t ask for proof or logic or understanding because it had already decided the answer long before the question had been asked.

Lucian closed his eyes, and the anguish in his voice nearly undid me. "Stop me, Evelyn, please.”

As though every instinct inside him was pulling him toward me while every piece of guilt he carried tried desperately to drag him away.

As though he expected me to choose distance. Rejection. Fear.

Instead, I rose onto my toes and kissed him.

For one electrifying heartbeat, the world seemed to hold its breath with us.

Then it exploded.

The bond between us roared awake, turning the space between and around us into something vast and overwhelming and impossibly bright.

Emotion surged between us in a wave so powerful it stole the air from my lungs.

Relief tangled with longing, guilt collided with desire, and somewhere in the chaos of it all, I lost track of which feelings were mine and which had come crashing across the bond from him.

In that moment, it didn’t matter. It felt as if I stood outside myself, watching two people who couldn’t be more wrong for each other fit perfectly together.

Lucian made a sound low in his throat and pulled back, barely a hair’s breadth.

"Evelyn..."

My name sounded fragile in his voice. Reverent. Disbelieving.

I tightened my grip on his shirt.

"I’m here."

Three simple words, and somehow they felt enormous in the space between us.

His eyes opened, and I watched something inside him begin to crack apart.

Not in the terrible way Catherine had broken him, nor in the violent way corruption had hollowed him out from the inside.

This was something else entirely.

This was someone setting down a weapon they had carried for so long that they had forgotten what it felt like to be unarmed.

His hand lifted slowly, giving me every opportunity to pull away.

When I didn’t, his fingers brushed gently against my cheek.

The touch was painfully careful, as though he still couldn’t quite believe I was real, or perhaps he feared that if he touched me too firmly, I might vanish like everything else he’d ever loved.

So I pulled him closer and showed him I was real, here.

His hand settled gingerly on my waist as if he still couldn’t quite believe he was allowed to touch me, while mine found the curve of his shoulder and held on as though I was afraid this moment might dissolve if I loosened my grip for even a second.

Later, I wouldn’t be able to remember whether I had stepped toward him or he had stepped toward me, whether it had been my hands pulling him closer or his guiding me forward.

All I remembered was motion.

Moonlight spilling across polished floors.

The quiet creak of wood beneath hurried footsteps.

The warmth of his hand enveloping mine.

The room around us remained dark except for the moonlight pouring through the windows, washing everything in soft shades of silver, so it felt like we were in an ethereal world of our own.

For a moment, we simply stood there, looking at each other as the enormity of what was happening settled over us.

Lucian reached for me like I was something precious. Something he couldn’t quite believe belonged in his hands.

There was urgency in him, yes, born of instinct and moonlight and everything the bond had awakened between us, but there was reverence too, threaded through every touch and every glance he gave me.

His forehead rested against mine as he looked into my eyes.

"Evelyn..." Gods, the way he said my name, as if those three syllables were made only for his voice. "Are you sure? You can still make a different choice."

Even now, despite how much I knew he wanted this, he was giving me a way out.

But I didn’t want a way out.

I wanted him.

So I wrapped my arms around his neck and stood up on my tiptoes.

"I choose you," I whispered feverishly against his lips, pouring every certainty I possessed into the minute space between us.

Something in him softened beneath that answer.

The walls he had spent years building around himself didn’t collapse all at once, but I felt the first stones fall away beneath my fingertips.

For the first time since I had met him, Lucian looked less like a man bracing for impact and more like someone allowing himself to believe he might survive what came after.

The bond between us hummed beneath my skin, warm and luminous and alive in a way I didn’t know I could feel.

For all my years studying magic and rules and theories and systems that governed the world, nothing had prepared me for this.

For certainty.

For recognition.

For the dazzling, overwhelming feeling of finding something I hadn’t realized I had been searching for my entire life.

And in that moment, I understood why werewolves crossed continents and fought wars and killed and died for their mates.

Because if this was what it felt like, how could they not?

Some things were bigger than logic and caution and fear.

Outside, somewhere beyond the walls of the packhouse, Nightfang ran beneath the full moon.

Inside, wrapped in silver light and ragged breathing and the thundering beat of another heart answering my own, the world narrowed to a single undeniable truth.

That perhaps every loss, every mistake, every heartache, every impossible choice that had brought me to this moment had been worth it.