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