My Sister Stole My Mate, And I Let Her

Chapter 512 UNRULY PATIENT

EVELYN’S POVI spent most of my life believing emotions could be dissected.

Every reaction had a catalyst. Every attachment had a chemical explanation. Every irrational impulse could, with enough observation, be reduced to something measurable.

It was how Catherine raised me.

Standing on that shattered ridge, surrounded by blood and fractured earth beneath a sky that looked almost offensively beautiful after everything it had witnessed, I realized there were still things in this world no amount of study could prepare me for.

Because nothing inside me made sense anymore.

Lucian remained where he had collapsed, shoulders bowed, every breath seeming to scrape painfully out of his chest.

He looked...broken.

Broken in the way old cathedrals were after surviving centuries of storms, still standing only because they had forgotten how to fall.

I hated that image the moment it entered my mind.

No, not the image—the emotions it elicited. The way my heart ached for him.

Why should I care?

I’d known him for only a handful of conversations.

The first time we’d met, I’d barely spoken to him before Catherine led him deeper into her laboratory.

The second time, I’d stopped him from sacrificing himself to kill Jack.

The third involved watching him nearly murder the very people he had risked everything trying to save.

He was a flawed, broken, terribly disturbed werewolf.

That should have been enough to keep my heart detached.

Instead, watching his lowered head, something inside my chest tightened until breathing became uncomfortable.

I looked away.

Unfortunately, looking elsewhere didn’t make things any better.

Zara remained kneeling beside him, one hand pressed gingerly against the bruise forming along her ribs where she’d been struck during the battle.

Despite everything she’d just learned—despite having her entire identity torn apart by coming to terms with the fact that she wasn’t even the real Zara—she didn’t leave his side. I could see how much she was willing to sacrifice to be who he needed her to be.

Then my eyes shifted toward Seraphina.

She stood beside Corin, her injured arm forgotten entirely as they discussed Catherine’s imprint with quiet urgency.

Every few seconds, her gaze returned to Lucian, carrying the same unwavering determination she’d shown ever since refusing his request to die.

And then someone stepped forward from the back.

She had vivid blue eyes and dark hair thick with dust. Her battle clothes were shredded in several places, but she held herself like there wasn’t a speck of dust on her.

"What if..." she began carefully, glancing between Corin and Lucian. "I mean, if it’s really a mate bond he needs..."

Everyone looked toward her.

"What are you saying, Maris?" Corin asked.

She shrugged. "Couldn’t we just...find one?"

Silence.

She shifted awkwardly beneath everyone’s attention, glancing at the man who had come up beside her.

"I mean..." She gestured vaguely. "There are thousands of wolves on this island. If someone understood the situation...if someone volunteered..."

She hesitated. "...wouldn’t that solve the problem?"

The world became strangely quiet.

Not externally. Inside me.

The thought should have sounded logical. Practical. Efficient.

Instead, something unpleasant curled beneath my ribs.

My fingers curled unconsciously against my palms.

The image appeared without permission: some nameless she-wolf kneeling where Lucian now sat. Touching him. Holding him. Anchoring him.

No.

The certainty arrived before the reasoning did.

Absolutely not.

The vehemence of it shocked me so completely and hit me with such irrational force that heat rushed into my face.

What—

No.

No, that was absurd.

Ridiculous.

I barely knew the man.

Then why did the idea make me want to rip something apart?

I stared at Lucian.

He hadn’t reacted to Maris’ suggestion.

If anything, his shoulders slumped even lower, like someone too exhausted to object. Like he’d accepted his shitty fate.

Something inside me moved before thought could catch it, and the next thing I knew, my feet carried me across the broken ridge.

I only realized everyone’s attention was on me when I stopped directly in front of Lucian.

He lifted his head slowly.

There was recognition in his eyes.

And shame.

So much shame.

"I..." My voice came out quieter than intended.

I cleared my throat. "I’m a witch."

‘Brilliant, Evelyn. As if no one here knew that.’

Lucian’s exhausted expression somehow softened. "I noticed."

I exhaled and forced the rest of the words out before I lost my nerve.

"I’ve spent years studying Catherine’s spellwork. I know how she layers enchantments. How she anchors commands inside the mind."

The small audience watched me carefully but didn’t interrupt.

I forced myself to hold Lucian’s gaze, to ignore the something inside me that felt like I was being pulled toward him.

"I can...I can try to remove what’s inside of you."

I watched his eyes widen. Watched him consider what I was offering.

For one infinitesimal moment, hope lingered in me. I could do this. If he let me, I could—

Lucian slowly shook his head.

"No."

I frowned.

"No?"

"No.”

I sputtered. “What—why?”

He sighed. "Evelyn..."

Hearing my name spoken so softly and with so much defeat made my chest tighten unexpectedly.

"The thing inside me”—his fingers curled against the dirt—“is the last piece of Catherine left. If I die..."

He inhaled slowly. "She dies with me."

"No," I said immediately.

He went on as though he hadn’t heard. “Even before it got to this, I helped Marcus and Catherine build their nightmare empire.”

His eyes drifted toward the distant remains of Catherine’s underground facility.

He shook his head. “I deserve this.”

"You don’t get to decide that," Sera cut in firmly.

Lucian barely acknowledged her. He kept his gaze on me.

"Killing me ends every contingency."

"It also ends you," I replied. My voice was shaking for some reason.

"Exactly. It’s for the best. I won’t waste everyone’s time chasing impossible cures."

"You are not wasting anyone’s time."

"I am."

"No."

"I’ve already—"

"No!"

The force behind my voice startled even me.

I took another step forward.

"You don’t get to decide your life’s value based on your worst mistakes."

His eyes widened, and he looked confused, as though he genuinely couldn’t understand why anyone would object.

A beat passed.

Then Lucian looked down again.

"I appreciate the sentiment."

"It isn’t sentiment."

"It doesn’t change reality."

"The reality," I replied, frustration bleeding through me, "is that I refuse to let Catherine claim one final victory through you."

His jaw tightened. "You don’t understand."

"I understand more than you think."

"I almost killed—"

"I know exactly what you almost did!"

My voice cracked, and my words echoed across the ridge.

The heat in my face intensified. I couldn’t remember a time I had such a loose leash on my emotions.

Why was I angry? Why was I...terrified?

Lucian stared at me in open surprise, like he was asking himself the same questions.

He whispered, “Evelyn...I’m not worth this."

"Oh, for the love of—"

“Okay, that’s enough!”

Kieran’s authoritative voice effectively shut down any further argument.

Everyone turned to him, shocked that he would be the one to butt in.

He shot Lucian a half-exasperated, half-annoyed look. “The whole self-sacrificing act is noble and all, Lucian, but we’re done discussing this.”

He swept a hand around everyone gathered around Lucian.

“Frankly, I don’t see the appeal. But if this many powerful women are intent on saving you, then dammit, shut the fuck up and let them try.”

Sera slapped a hand over her mouth to muffle what sounded suspiciously like a burst of laughter.

And despite the devastation surrounding us, despite the mountain of hurdles we still needed to cross before we could all breathe in peace, for one fleeting moment, the crushing tension eased.

Corin was the first to become serious again.

"We’re wasting time."

His gaze shifted toward Sera, and some psychic conversation passed between them.

Sera nodded and turned back to Lucian. “We’re doing this, mate or no,” she announced. “Not another word out of you.”

Lucian sighed. "I really wish everyone would stop treating me like an unruly patient."

"You are an unruly patient," Corin replied.

"And an exceptionally difficult one."

Before Lucian could protest further, Sera moved.

Psychic energy unfurled around her in shimmering, nearly invisible currents.

Corin stepped beside her, and I sensed his own power unfurl, sharper and clinical.

The world became impossibly still.

Wind swept across the ridge. Somewhere below us, waves crashed against the cliffs.

Neither sound seemed able to reach the space forming between them.

I felt their energy descend inward—two consciousnesses reaching carefully toward a third. Following fractured pathways through Lucian’s damaged mind, searching for the parasite Catherine had implanted.

The silence seemed to stretch for an eternity.

I could feel my palms sweating. My pulse throbbed. My nails dug into my palms as I struggled to stand patiently still and do nothing.

Suddenly—

Both Sera and Corin stiffened like they’d been electrocuted.

Sera’s eyes flew open.

Corin inhaled sharply.

At the same instant, a voice exploded through the psychic connection.

It reverberated directly inside my mind, so deep and primal that every hair on my body stood upright.

It wasn’t Lucian’s human voice.

It was rougher, carrying the growling cadence of something feral and dangerous.

’MATE!’

The sound tore through every corner of my consciousness like a howl echoing across an endless forest.

And it carried enough longing, desperation, loneliness, and certainty to make my heart stop.