My Sister's Alpha
Two sisters born with unimaginable power but only one is allowed to carry it-allowed to rule.
Naidira Thornton lives her entire life as a shame to her powerful parents-an alpha without a wolf, a daughter without her parents' favour, a mate left unclaimed. When she is banished for a crime she is innocent of and replaced by her own twin in a marriage built in lies, the pack believes the weaker sister has been erased.
They are wrong.
The secrets pile sky high till a perfect Luna's crown and an alpha's authority shatters under bloodshed and betrayal, Naidira returns and triggers a chain of events no one can stop. Bonds awaken, wolves arise.
Power was never taken from Naidira. It was buried.
And when it breaks free, nothing-family, throne, or fate-will survive unchanged.
Chapters
Share
Chapter 6
ORION POV
I turned back slowly to see her staring, her neck craned and her brows scrunched.
"Who were you talking to?" she asked.
I glanced sideways to find the space Eli had previously been standing empty.
"No one of importance," I said after deciding not to reveal anything about our meeting.
"O...okay," she pouted. "Let's go inside, I've got a surprise for you," she giggled like a mischievous teenager.
Calanthe wrapped her arms around mine as she pulled us inside, leading the way. Instead of the hall, where the party noise had significantly waned, she took the elevator heading to the rooms.
The party was held in one of my company's luxurious five star hotels.
The elevator opened while she typed in my private chamber code. She turned, a sultry smile on her lips, letting me know where this was all heading.
Her voice dropped to a whisper, barely audible. "I'm going to borrow your tie now."
Her hands reached up to undo it, her fingers lingering longer than necessary on my chest. When she was done, she lifted the tie to my eyes, blocking my vision.
I cooperated, lacking the energy to resist.
When the elevator pinged, signaling we had arrived, she led me inside and seated me on the soft bed.
Then she disappeared, my guess was the bathroom as my ears picked up the sound of a running tap. As time crawled by excruciatingly slow, I felt the urge to rip the tie from my eyes. I took two deep breaths to calm my nerves.
The bathroom door opened.
"You can remove it now... unless you want me to do it for you?" she slurred.
Before she could move, I tore the tie from my face.
Calanthe stood leaning gracefully against the door. She wore a red stringy lingerie that barely covered anything, her hair loose and black heels on her feet.
I gulped as saliva pooled in my throat while she walked slowly toward me. She was undeniably sexy, every sane man's desire, but I had lost my senses long ago.
She stopped inches away from me, her bare stomach near my lips. Then she bent closer.
"I promise not to complain about being sore," she whispered, using my earlier words against me, before capturing my lips in hers.
But before she could go further, I pulled back.
She tried kissing me again, but I resisted.
After several failed attempts, she grumbled. "What is it now!"
"I'm exhausted. Let's do this another time."
I tried to stand, but she blocked my path.
"And when would this 'another time' be? Two more years? Am I not enough for you?"
Her voice cracked at the end. And I realized I truly hadn't touched her longer than I could remember.
"Not now, Calanthe."
Her face fell."Calanthe... I'm nothing but Calanthe now. Your Luna, not your wife. "
She bit her lip and turned to walk away, but I grabbed her hand and pulled her back onto the bed.
She bounced on the bed with a breathless gasp, staring into my eyes.
I didn't feel like it. As a matter of fact, sleeping had been nothing but an excuse because these past weeks, no matter how exhausted I was, I couldn't sleep properly. Anyone paying close attention would notice the dark line forming under my eyes.
My hands grabbed her waist as she climbed on top of me.
I toyed with the hem of her lingerie, working my way upward.
But when my eyes fell on her face, someone else was there. The same features... yet.different.
Her hands shot to my face. She licked her lips before grabbing mine hungrily, biting down as her other hand traveled lower.
"I need you, Orion," she said.
But that wasn't the voice latched onto my memories.
Heat surged through me as my chest tightened violently like it was being pounded on. My vision blurred as unknown anger bubbled within me, and my wolf, Arian, thrashed inside me, growling.
Before I could process anything, my hands moved with immense force, I hurled her off me. Her body raised through the air then to the floor with a loud thud.
Calanthe winced in pain as she stared at me from the floor, the fear in her eyes replaced with shock. My own eyes widened at the realization of what I had just done. The repulsion was instant. I felt it, and I knew she did too.
"Calan-" I began, but the shock in her eyes was quickly replaced with anger as they twitched.
This was the first time I had ever seen her like this.
"I think I should take my leave now." Calanthe scrambled up from the floor, grabbed the bedsheet, and wrapped it around herself.
"I'll just sleep in Tari's room," she said, heading toward the door, her voice no longer holding its usual soft tone.
I got up to stop her but she fastened her steps and pressed the elevator button.
"Don't follow me," she muttered, her hands clenched into fists.
I wanted to explain that it wasn't my intention, but I couldn't find the proper words. I couldn't explain what was happening to me either.
The elevator door closed, Calanthe disappearing behind them.
A heavy sigh escaped my lips as I went to the bathroom to take a shower, letting the water and my thoughts wash over me.
I needed to get my head straight. I wasn't supposed to be ruining things. Like Cedric said, I shouldn't go around searching for something that would destroy what I had here.
After calming my nerves, I lay on the bed. Sleep did not come easily, but eventually I drifted into a time when I wasn't as empty as I was now.
Fire burned in the center of the woods. People were scattered around the flames, glass of wine held to their lips as the moonlight and fire illuminated their faces while they talked and laughed.
I was part of it too, until my ears picked up the sound of sniffing. I looked round to see if anyone else noticed, but they all seemed caught up in something else. The sniffing grew louder, and involuntarily my feet moved as my ears directed me to the sound.
A girl crouched behind a large stone, her arms wrapped around her chest as she continuously struck it.
When she noticed me, she lifted her head. Tears filled her beautiful face as her eyes stared deep into my soul.
Only one eye did that, only one person's eyes could unravel me like that.
Naidira.
I walked towards her, but she backed her way, her palms pressing into the damp ground behind her. When I took another step forward, she jolted to her feet, then gave me one last glance, and ran.
Not just anywhere, she ran straight into the blazing fire at the center of the woods. The same fire that was meant to bring warmth and joy now swallowed her whole.
As her skin burned, she turned to face me. A smile formed on her lips, one that never reached her eyes.
My eyes snapped open, my body jolting upright as I took in my surroundings. The bed, the chair and lights. My hands flew to my panting chest as I tried to ease the ache and convince myself I was here, that no one was burning.
I turned to the large mirror that sat at the right side of my bed. My clothes clung to me, soaked with sweat, my breath uneven.
My mind drifted back to the shaman words. And for once, my heart and mind reached the same conclusion.
I needed to find her... I needed Naidira.
Keep Reading
The story is getting intense! Switch to App to
Unlock All Chapters
You may also like
8.4
Grace, after three years of silence from a crash that stole her voice and family, finally uttered a hoarse syllable. It was her first sound, a breakthrough she desperately wanted to share with Josiah, her childhood protector. Instead, through a slightly ajar door, she heard his careless chuckle, followed by a sharp, entitled voice.
Alexandria's voice sliced through the air: "Josiah, are you really planning to bring that little mute to the banquet? She's a walking trailer park tragedy. It's embarrassing." Grace froze, waiting for Josiah to defend her. He didn't. Instead, he sighed, calling her "a responsibility" and "a lifeless ghost," then pulled Alexandria closer.
The words were serrated blades. Her silent devotion, her self-erasure for his peace, had made her a punchline. He was relieved she was broken. The bitter realization of his betrayal ignited a cold, white-hot fury.
Wiping away tears, Grace met Josiah, feigning her usual submissive smile, and quietly refused his "hush money." As he walked away without a glance, her inner voice was clear, sharp, and resolute: "I'm done playing your game."
9.7
Eighteen months ago, the man I loved shattered my heart, claiming everything between us was a mistake. Now, he's back, a ghost of his former self, a rookie tryout in my pro esports team. And I will make him regret crawling back.
Clifton, captain of a legendary esports team, was secretly battling a severe wrist injury that threatened his career, every match a fight against his own body. He pushed through the pain, ignoring doctors' warnings, desperate to maintain his god-like status.
His world was already on the edge, but nothing prepared him for seeing Justice Terry again in the team basement. Justice, pale and trembling, his eyes wide with naked terror, was now a rookie tryout.
Clifton had spent a year and a half trying to forget that rainy Chicago alley, the raw revulsion in Justice's eyes, the whispered "it wasn't real" that had left him heartbroken. Justice had vanished, and Clifton had erased every trace. Now, the boy who once looked at him like he was the sun was back, flinching at his touch, displaying a deep, primal fear. Amidst sponsor pressure and whispers of being "washed," Clifton saw Justice's return as a chance for vengeance. He publicly humiliated Justice on a live stream, forcing him into a suicide mission, then coldly benched him.
Yet, the satisfaction never came. Instead, a hollow emptiness and a torrent of questions: What had truly happened in the past? Why was Justice here, and what trauma had carved such fear into his bones?
Clifton, unwilling to be fooled again, swore to uncover every secret and every lie. He would force Justice to explain why he had returned, even if it meant tearing down everything they both had left.
7.7
Rory stood on the witness stand, forced by her father into an impossible choice: secure her dying mother's medical funding, or save her innocent boyfriend.
She looked Corbin right in his trusting eyes and lied to the court, testifying that he was the one driving the car during the fatal hit-and-run, sending him to a maximum-security prison for ten years.
The betrayal destroyed him. Corbin's father died of a heart attack upon hearing the guilty verdict. Six years later, Corbin returned as a ruthless billionaire and systematically blacklisted Rory from every job in the city. He cornered her into singing at his private club, humiliating her by forcing her to drink scotch—knowing she was severely allergic—and making her throw away his promise ring just to earn a stack of cash.
"Remember this moment. This is only the beginning."
She endured his cruel revenge because she was hiding a desperate secret: she was raising his five-year-old daughter, Willa. But when Willa's congenital heart defect suddenly worsened, requiring an impossible one-million-dollar surgery, Rory realized Corbin's calculated blockade had left her completely trapped with no way to save their child.
Staring at the sterile hospital walls, the last shred of her guilt burned away, replaced by a cold, hard resolve. He had destroyed her career and backed her into a corner, but he was the only one with the money. Wiping her tears, Rory turned and headed straight for Vance Tower.
7.4
I was Z, the world's most lethal hacker. But after I died, I woke up gasping for air in a massive, freezing bathtub.
Memories that didn't belong to me slammed into my brain. I was trapped in the body of Zero Vance, a notorious "trashy young master" of a wealthy family, who was actually a girl hiding in plain sight.
The original owner of this body was a pathetic, lovesick stalker obsessed with an esports god named Maverick Thorne.
She wore ridiculous rainbow hair and cheap makeup, sending him thousands of desperate, unread texts every single day.
When he completely ignored her, she became the ultimate laughingstock.
Bullies at her elite academy spray-painted "freak" on her locker, shoved her around, and her own family looked at her with exhausted disappointment.
Unable to take the endless humiliation and his cold rejection, she swallowed a bottle of pills and slipped into the icy water.
Looking at the ruined, tear-stained reflection in the mirror, physiological disgust washed over me.
Why would anyone throw their life away for an arrogant, frozen block of ice?
I grabbed the grooming scissors and sheared off the neon hair until only a sharp, silver-blonde crop remained.
I deleted his contact, blocked his number, and put on a perfectly tailored black suit.
When the school's head cheerleader pointed a finger at my nose, warning me to stay away from Maverick, I snapped it backward.
"I have zero interest in Maverick Thorne."
I am alive. And as the new Zero, I am going to take everything back.
8.9
Aubree Hamilton was the top-tier executive assistant to Wall Street's most ruthless titan, Beck Franco. A month ago, she made a catastrophic mistake and spent the night in his bed.
Thinking she had erased the mistake with a morning-after pill, she panicked upon his return and lied about being engaged to push him away.
But Beck, a man who despised disloyalty above all else, immediately suspended her and ordered her escorted out of the building. Her nightmare only escalated when her toxic ex-boyfriend attacked her on the street, tearing her purse open and exposing the empty morning-after pill box to the public—and to Beck, who was watching from his penthouse. After having his security rescue her, Beck trapped her in his car, ruthlessly tearing apart her fake engagement. Later in her apartment, the suffocating tension between them almost ignited into a kiss, but a violent wave of nausea suddenly hit Aubree.
She shoved him away with all her strength and violently threw up in the bathroom.
Beck took it as the ultimate physical disgust. He walked out, deeply humiliated and dangerously obsessed, unleashing his resources to investigate her every move.
Left alone and trembling, Aubree finally checked the crushed white box. The pill she took had expired a month ago.
Staring at the two bright pink lines on the pregnancy test, she made a desperate vow: Beck Franco could never know she was carrying his child, and she had to disappear before he found out.
7.3
I took a pet-sitting gig at a luxury apartment, thinking my life was perfect. I was pregnant and engaged to Damien, a successful attorney who had spent seven years proving his unwavering loyalty.
But the moment I stepped inside, I recognized his cologne. Then I saw the photos. The apartment belonged to his mistress, Candace. She had deliberately hired me to flaunt their year-long affair and the massive diamond ring he had just bought her.
Candace even set a trap, calling the police to falsely accuse me of stealing that ring to completely destroy my reputation. But I turned the tables, using my knowledge of his habits to expose her perjury and their affair right in front of the detectives.
Furious that his flawless public image was ruined, Damien confronted me outside the precinct.
When I told him I was pregnant, instead of joy, his eyes filled with panic for his career.
"Shut up!" he roared.
He violently shoved me to the ground in front of a crowd of onlookers.
Blood pooled on the cold pavement. I lost our baby.
As I lay in the ICU, my heart turned to ash. He had spent seven years promising me a safe harbor, only to brutally murder our unborn child just to protect his own selfish ego.
I didn't shed a single tear. I used his overwhelming public guilt to make him sign over all his assets to me, then vanished without a trace.
A year later, I returned to New York not as the broken Addison, but as "Phoenix," the world's most powerful jewelry designer.
And I am here to personally put him in a prison cell.