The Alpha's Forbidden Mate: A Heart Shattered

Elara Meadowes POV:

"Ilana, get up! Do you really want to keep your precious Cole waiting downstairs all day?"

The sharp, impatient voice of my brother, Silas, sliced through the last vestiges of my dream, accompanied by a series of thundering knocks that rattled the cheap wood of my bedroom door. I groaned, pulling the comforter over my head to block out the sliver of morning sun that had found its way through a gap in the curtains, landing squarely on my face.

But his words had already done their damage.

*Cole.*

The name was a spark in the darkness of my mind. My inner wolf, a gentle she-wolf I called Lyra, perked up at the thought of him. Her tail gave an excited thump against the inside of my skull.

I was awake. Instantly.

The comforter was thrown back as I shot up into a sitting position. The cool morning air hit my bare arms, and I glanced down at my faded sleep shirt, a cartoon wolf howling at a crescent moon printed on the front.

I scrambled out of bed and yanked the door open, my hair a tangled mess around my face. Silas was leaning against the doorframe, a wicked smirk playing on his lips. He was already in his Nightshade Pack training gear, the dark gray fabric stretching across a frame that seemed to get broader and more solid every month. Since being promoted to Gamma, he carried himself with a new, unshakeable authority that even I, his sister, found intimidating at times.

"Cole isn't here, is he?" I accused, folding my arms across my chest. A blush was already creeping up my neck. I hated that he could still get me so easily.

"Strategic deception," he said, shrugging. He held out a steaming mug of coffee. "Otherwise, would you have been up before noon?"

I snatched the mug from his hand, the warmth seeping into my cold fingers and melting some of my irritation. "You're just jealous," I mumbled into the steam, taking a careful sip.

The smirk on his face vanished, replaced by the serious, guarded expression I knew all too well. "I'm just doing my job as a Gamma, and as your brother. That means keeping you safe."

My stomach gave a little lurch. I knew what he meant. He wasn't talking about rogue wolves or rival packs. He was talking about Cole. He was talking about the chasm of status that separated us.

I turned away from his piercing gaze and walked back into my room. My eyes landed on the small, silver-plated frame on my nightstand. It was a picture of Cole and me from last summer's pack picnic. His arm was slung around my shoulders, and he was laughing, his head thrown back. The sun caught the highlights in his sandy-brown hair, and even just looking at the photo, I could almost smell him—that warm, comforting scent of pine needles and damp earth after a rain.

My fingers traced the