Dear Mate, You Can Marry My Sister

BELLA

“Are you crazy?! That thing is covered in dust!” I yell at the omega wiping the table surfaces in the pack’s multipurpose hall with a dusty rag.

“I’m sorry Luna, I’ll get a clean one right away,” she shudders, shock and fear mixing in her eyes as she scurries away.

I sigh and shake my head slowly, a tinge of guilt slicing through my heart. I know I shouldn’t be yelling at people like that but if my husband, Alpha Brad, comes in here and sees even one thing out of place, I won’t hear the end of it.

Today is a very important day to him. Dare I say the most important day and the party tonight most especially, so I cannot afford any mistakes or mishaps in its preparation and certainly not dusty tables.

I walk over to the line of tables the omega had previously cleaned and run my index finger over them, lifting it up to my face to inspect for any speck of dust when the harsh smell of Esme’s cologne makes me frown.

I wonder why she bathes in that stuff.

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Bella, happy birthday to you,” she sings, smiling profusely and dangling a beautifully wrapped box in her hands before she stretches it to me.

“Aren’t you supposed to be at work? I thought you had the morning shift,” I reply, hugging her before taking the box, carelessly placing it on one of the tables, my eyes shifting to the omega who has returned with a cleaner rag.

“You’ll have to clean all of these again as well,” I quickly tell the omega before turning back to face my best friend, Dr. Esme Parker, head doctor of the Black Fang pack who’s now frowning at me and I know why.

I hate today or rather hate being reminded that it is my birthday but Esme has never failed to give me a gift in hopes that one day my attitude towards it will change but it won’t.

“Aren’t you at least going to open it?” She glares at me, more frustrated than annoyed.

“Esme…” I spread my hands out as if to bring her focus to the chaos around us that I need to organize. Now is certainly not the time for opening gifts.

She scoffs, frowning, “I’ll never get it. You never celebrate your birthdays, act like it’s the worst day in the world but every year since Ariana died, you’ve meticulously organized her remembrance party. You’re the Luna, you deserve to be celebrated too.”

“Esme, I have work to do. Thanks for the gift,” I say in a curt tone, keeping a pointed look.

We have this same conversation every year. I don’t celebrate my birthdays because there is simply nothing to celebrate. Ever since I was a kid, no one ever made the day feel special to me, not even the man and woman who brought me into this world.

Heck, in the five years of our marriage, Brad has never gotten me a birthday gift or even as much as wished me a happy birthday but he never forgets to host a remembrance party in the honor of my dead twin sister, born the same day as me, so what exactly is the point of celebrating if the people you care about pretend like they don’t know what the day is to you?

Esme sighs defeatedly, “I didn’t mean to upset you and yes I have the morning shift so I'll get out of your fur now but B, you deserve better.”

Like bitter truth, her words leave an unpleasant taste in my mouth, poking my heart with a touch of gloom and I sink into one of the seats as she leaves, staring at her gift box.

Better….

How can I know what better is when this is what I have known all my life?

Ariana has always been the star of our family, everyone’s favorite, even Brad’s. I wasn’t even supposed to be here. According to my mother, she didn’t even know she was going to have twins until the sixth month of her pregnancy.

It was like I just appeared out of nowhere. I wasn’t even seen in any of her Ultrasound scans up until that sixth month and that is exactly how they treat me, unexpected, unwanted.

“Where’s the Luna?”

The low seductive tone of Brad’s voice coming from behind immediately kicks me out of my little emotional trip and quickly wipe the stray tear that had fallen from my eyes, standing up and simultaneously spinning to look at him at the entrance of the hall and the sight of his devilishly handsome face immediately makes my heart race.

Even if we both woke up from the same bed this morning, whenever I see him, he always has this same effect on me.

We may be far from being the perfect couple but Brad is just perfect for me, afterall he was originally my mate.

“Care to explain why the drapes are lilac and not pink?”

The sour look on his face and the cold tone of his voice as I reach him immediately drowns out all the excitement of seeing him.

I swallow, cautious as I speak, my heart pounding slowly. I hate it when he’s upset, especially because of me or at me.

“I thought Lilac would be good for a change, it also matches with the white decor.”

He scoffs softly but the look remains planted on his face. Only Brad would still look handsome with such a frown.

“Do you know why I’ve always asked for the pink and white decor?” His voice rises a little and my heart clenches. Maybe I shouldn’t have made those changes.

“I know….I just thought—”

“Obviously you weren’t thinking. Pink— Bella and it better be done before I come back out here. Where’s Greg?”

“Inside one of the rooms, setting up the sou—”

He brushes past me, not even letting me finish and my heart clenches. I always manage to ruin things and make him angry.

Pink and white are both Ariana’s favorite colors and they’ve been the color theme for four years. I just thought people seeing something different would be good for a change but I should have known better.

I sniff back the tears that threaten to fall from my eyes, walking over to the drape by the door and pulling it down, taking one last look at him as he disappears into the corridor leading to the inner rooms.

He won’t wish me a happy birthday but will berate me for not using Ariana’s favorite color for the decor but it’s fine, I know he doesn’t love me, not like I love him and he made that clear years ago.

When Ariana and I both turned eighteen, Brad and I found out we were fated mates but he rejected me in secret and made me promise not to tell anyone and then he announced Ariana to the pack as his chosen mate but as fate would have it, Ariana died on the day of their wedding and the onus fell on me to be his bride according to pack customs.

A loud scream from outside the hall makes me whip my head in the direction and then it gets rowdier, sounds of people jubilating.

Curious, I step out to see the reason for myself and my heart forgets to beat for a second, my legs go stiff and I freeze, unable to comprehend the sight before me.

“Ariana?”

The words leave my lips but not without the shock.

How is she alive? We buried her body or what was left of it from the fire.