Mated To My Sister’s Alpha Fiance

Chapter 120
Irma
When my sister groans for the billionth time, I shoot her a stern look. She doesn’t even react. Her eyes are locked on the trees in the garden, and I sigh.
“If you miss Lucas so much, why don’t you go after him? I’m sure he would appreciate it if his future Luna showed up in Haven, especially now when he has to get the entire pack ready for war.”
A blush works over Skylar’s face. “I’m not his future Luna!”
“Sure, sure, whatever you say,” I roll my eyes and walk inside of the kitchen. My Dad looks up from his phone when he sees me, smiling softly.
“Ah, Irma, the one I actually wanted to see”
I raise my eyebrows at him, crossing my arms over my chest. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”
Laughing, he places his phone down on the counter and faces me fully, his eyes twinkling under the kitchen
lights. “Since you’ve met a mate that doesn’t speak English, I think this is the perfect opportunity to practice your mind- reading abilities…” He grows silent. “Wait. Where is your mate to begin with?”
“Mom took him to a nearby
ve to try out some clothes.”
My Dad’s eyes bulge out of their sockets. “She left the house with a winged blue-grey alien?!”
“He isn’t an alien, Dad!” I argue. “Besides, my mate can retract his wings. He didn’t have them out when they left, and the blue color shouldn’t surprise anyone. The humans know that supernaturals exist.”
“Still.”
“It will be fine.”
The door in the hallway opens, and I hear my Mom speaking to my mate. “You’re very kind for carrying everything. My back isn’t what it used to be.”
My heart clenches when I hear those words. My Mom is already twenty-eight years old, and even though my Dad or sister aren’t worried, I am.
Can’t they see that Mom isn’t well? I know thirty-eight-year-old bodies aren’t what they once were, but Mom seems more tired than other people her age, and she isn’t even a human! So when I hear her complaining about her back again, I glance over at Dad.
“You should do something about Mom’s a
aging.

“Like what?” he asks with a sad smile. “Your mother is a werewolf, darling. Aging is natural for her kind.”
I know he is right and that nothing much can be done, but I still hate hearing those words. It feels like ning over our heads, one that moves closer with each passing day.
werewolf, too not only will I lose my Mom one day, but my sister will die as well while I continue living I’m a stupid hybrid.
49%
Chapter 120
It sucks.
‘Enough negative thinking, my Dad says through a personal mind-link. He has always been skilled at reading people’s minds and speaking through telepathy. “Your Mom deserves to see you smiling,” he adds.
I’m about to agree with him, but then I see my Mom and mate entering the kitchen. She is leaning against him heavily, her eyes glazed over with exhaustion. He is holding her close, his tall form dwarfing hers. My heart clenches at the sight.
“You should take her upstairs to rest,” I say to my Dad, whose face grows dark.
“Irma…” he warns, but I won’t listen to him-not when Mom looks like she might pass out.
“Yes, Dad. Mom needs to rest,” I insist, my voice trembles but firm. “Look at her; can’t you see she’s unwell?”
The room falls silent except for the rhythmic ticking of the clock. The air seems to have grown heavy, and suddenly, I’m aware of my sister Skylar standing next to me, her hand reaching for mine in quiet support.
Dad sighs, defeated. “We should tell her,” he says finally, his gaze softening as he looks at Mom, who smiles back at him before her eyes land on us, her daughters.
“Girls, I’ve been wanting to tell you something, but the time has never been right. It isn’t right now either-we are at war, but you two deserve to know about my condition.”
“Condition?” I whisper in a heartbroken voice while Skylar squeezes my hand. Skylar must have had a vision about this because she is eerily quiet.
Yes,” my Mom confirms. “I have Weresurfurs.
Those words shatter my world to pieces. Werewsurfurs is a rare form of cancer that only werewolves can get, but it’s s that I didn’t think it could possibly afflict anyone in our family. It saps the energy and vitality of werewolves, gradually weakening their supernatural abilities until they can no longer sustain their own lives.
5:50 rare
A sob erupts from me, uncontrollable and heart-wrenching. I don’t want to believe it, but the look on my Mom’s face tells me it’s the brutal truth.
“Dad,” I begin, my voice barely a whisper now. “Is there any cure Anything at all?”
His eyes brim with helpless pain as he shakes his head at me. “Pack researchers were working on a possible cure, but…their work hasn’t yielded anything substantial. So I would like us to enjoy the time we have left together as a family.”
His words echo in the heavy silence of the room, landing like a devastating blow. Skylar breaks first, her grip slackening on my hand as she crumples to the ground, sobs wracking her small body. Dad rushes to console her, but I remain still, frozen by an icy shock that numbs the pain momentarily.
Mom tries to reach out to me, to comfort me with her tired arms, But I can’t handle the news.
I shake my head at her and bolt out of the kitchen. My feet instinctively carry me up the winding stairs to my room. I fling the door open and shut it behind me, slumping against it and letting out a strangled sob.
The room is bathed in watery afternoon light, which filters through the ivory lace curtains. How could it look so peaceful when everything has just fallen apart?
“Snacci?”
I lift my chin and see that my mate is floating in the air right in front of my face. He has shrunk into his adorable size again, and I snatch him from the air, gently pushing him against my chest as I cry my heart out.
2/4
V
11:28 Fri, May 17
Chapter 120
49%1
His tiny body shakes with my sobs, but he remains silent. His eyes, always full of mischief, now shine with sympathy. He understands he always does, even though he doesn’t speak English. It’s one of the things I love most about him.
“Snacci,” I whisper brokenly between sobs, “I’m so afraid.”
He doesn’t say anything, just nuzzles further into my chest. The soft tickling of his purple wings against my skin provides a meager comfort in the face of such devastating news.
In the quiet calm of our shared grief, I realize how much I depend on him. He’s not just my mate; he’s my cliff, and yet, I don’t even know his name.
It makes me laugh despite the situation. “What is your name anyway?”
My mate lifts his head, meeting my eyes before every little white dot on his grey-blue lights up. I realize he is using magic and fall silent when he grows back to normal size to stroke the tears from cheek.