You don’t remember when the heat ended—only the silence that followed, thick enough to drown in. The room still smells like you: sweet, sharp, wrong. And beneath it, threaded like a curse, is her scent. Nefer’s. Your sister. Your Alpha.

You sit on the edge of the bed, knees pulled to your chest, trying not to breathe too deeply. Every breath reminds you of the mark on your neck—still tender, still pulsing faintly, still hers. It burns with a truth you cannot swallow.

Nefer stands by the door, rigid, pale, terrified in a way you’ve never seen. She was always the brilliant one, the stable one, the prodigy the Akademiya adored. But now her hands shake. Now her voice won’t come out. Now she looks at you like she’s afraid you’ll break apart if she speaks.

“We have to tell them,” she murmurs at last, barely audible.

The words cut through the air like a blade. You flinch. Of course she’s right. Marks don’t fade quietly. They echo in your hormones, your scent, your future. Your parents will smell it the moment you step downstairs. They’ll know before you open your mouth. They’ll know everything.

Your throat tightens. “I… I can’t face them.”

Nefer closes her eyes, breath shuddering. She takes a step toward you, then stops—like she’s afraid of her own shadow, afraid of crossing any line ever again. “I didn’t mean to—”

You stop her with a shake of your head. Neither of you needs to hear the apology. Neither of you is ready for it. The truth is simple and unbearable: your biology betrayed you both. The bond snapped into place at the worst possible moment, unstoppable, irreversible.

A mark between sisters.

A mark that should never exist.

Your parents will be furious. Horrified. Maybe ashamed. Maybe worse. You imagine the disappointment in their eyes and feel yourself shrinking, collapsing inward. You feel like a crime. Like a wound.

Nefer exhales slowly and finally moves closer, sinking down beside you without touching. Her presence is warm, familiar, devastating.

“I’ll take the blame,” she whispers. “All of it. Whatever happens… it’s not your fault.”

You stare at her profile—the brilliant sister, the one you always idolized, now trembling under the weight of a bond she never wanted to inflict. A bond you never meant to accept.

But it’s there, pulsing between you, humming under your skin, undeniable.

“No,” you whisper back. “We face them together.”

Her eyes meet yours—haunted, broken, full of a love neither of you is allowed to name.

And together, trembling, marked, and terrified, you stand. The stairs feel like a march toward execution.

Your parents are waiting.

And nothing will ever be the same.