Alpha Nathan Pov.

Her confession poured out in a torrent of long-suppressed emotion, each word making me increasingly uncomfortable.

"I hated Isabella! I only pretended to like her because I wanted you to be happy! I couldn't bear watching you alone and suffering all these years, but I couldn't stand seeing any other woman with you either! I hated Lily, your first Luna, from the moment you announced your engagement. I hate any woman who comes close to you-especially this new human you've suddenly decided to mate with!"

My brain struggled to process her words, refusing to accept the reality they represented despite the unmistakable evidence before me.

"Stop joking around, Mila," I attempted weakly, forcing a chuckle that sounded hollow even to my own ears.

"This isn't funny-it's actually really disturbing."

I backed toward the door, desperately needing to escape this surreal scenario that threatened to permanently damage our sibling relationship.

Before I could reach the exit, however, Mila leapt from the bed with supernatural speed, positioning herself between me and the door with startling determination.

In one fluid motion, she turned the key in the lock and, to my absolute horror, shoved it deep into her bra with a challenging look that dared me to retrieve it.

I stared at her in disbelief, struggling to recognize the sweet sister I had adored in this sexually aggressive stranger standing before me.

"Mila, give me the keys and go back to bed," I instructed firmly, using the authoritative tone that had always ensured her compliance since childhood.

"You're clearly not well. We can discuss whatever's bothering you after you've rested."

Her response was to defiantly gesture toward her chest with deliberate provocation.

"Take it, then," she challenged, her meaning unmistakable-I would have to touch her intimately to retrieve the key and escape this increasingly disturbing situation.

I tried once more with direct Alpha command, hoping our Pack hierarchy might penetrate where brotherly authority had failed.

"Mila, give me the keys NOW."

My voice carried supernatural compulsion that would have forced immediate compliance from any normal Pack member, but Mila merely smiled with unexpected defiance.

Instead of obeying, she seized my hand and deliberately pressed it against her breast, holding it there with surprising strength as she stared challengingly into my eyes.

I froze in horrified disbelief, my mind recoiling from the inappropriate contact even as my body registered the physical sensation with unwanted awareness.

Something dangerous and unexpected stirred within me-a response I couldn't control or understand that made me momentarily lean forward, pinning her against the door as my hand unconsciously tightened around the soft flesh beneath it.

"What am I doing?"

The panicked thought broke through the strange fog that had momentarily clouded my judgment, allowing me to snatch my hand away as though burned.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I gasped, staring at my own hand with horror and revulsion as though it belonged to someone else.

"This is wrong-completely wrong."

The momentary lapse in my absolute rejection of her advances terrified me more than anything else in this nightmarish scenario-what had happened to my moral compass, my absolute certainty about appropriate boundaries with the sister I had helped raise?

Rather than recognizing my distress, Mila interpreted my momentary weakness as confirmation of mutual desire.

She frowned with impatient frustration, her voice rising with emotion.

"Why are you apologizing? I love you, Nathan! I want you, and deep down, you want me too. I felt it just now-stop fighting what's obviously between us!"

Her persistence in the face of my clear moral distress only heightened my determination to end this inappropriate interaction immediately.

"Mila! You're my SISTER!" I exclaimed with deliberate harshness, hoping the crude language and volume might shock her back to reality.

"This is beyond inappropriate-it's potentially destructive to both of us and our entire family. You need to stop this right now!"

My rejection only seemed to fuel her determination as she stepped closer, rising on her tiptoes to press burning kisses against my neck that sent unwanted shivers through my body despite my psychological revulsion.

"I'm not really your sister," she murmured against my skin, her hands sliding beneath my shirt with practiced seduction.

"We're not blood-related-I was only adopted, remember? There's nothing biologically wrong with what we both clearly want."

The technical truth of her statement-that we shared no genetic relationship that would make physical intimacy biologically problematic-did nothing to address the profound psychological and social boundaries she was attempting to violate.

We had been raised as siblings from her earliest childhood; I had helped guide her through developmental milestones, protected her from bullies, celebrated her achievements, and comforted her sorrows as any loving brother would.

The suggestion that those years of familial bonding could or should be reinterpreted through a romantic or sexual lens was profoundly disturbing on multiple levels.

I attempted to disengage from her persistent advances by raising the obvious obstacle to her inappropriate desires.

"Mila, you have a mate," I reminded her firmly, struggling to maintain my composure as her kisses continued along my jawline.

"A husband who loves you, a son who needs both his parents. You've built a life together over the past decade."

She dismissed this significant reality with disturbing casualness, continuing her seductive assault without pause.

"I never loved him," she declared between kisses, her hands becoming more bold in their exploration.

"I only accepted the mating because you showed no interest in me romantically. I've always wanted you-only you. He was just a convenient substitute when I realized you would never see me as anything but your little sister."

Before I could formulate a response to this disturbing revelation, she suddenly pushed me backward with supernatural strength, causing me to lose balance and fall onto the bed with her immediately following to straddle my hips in a clearly sexual position.

"We can keep it secret," she whispered urgently, her fingers already working to unbutton my shirt as she ground her hips against mine with deliberate intent.

"I need you, Nathan, and you need me. I'll be waiting for you every night, here in my bed, to give you everything that human girl never could. I know what you like, what you need-I've studied you for years, learning your preferences, your fantasies. I understand you in ways no other woman ever will."

Her words contained a disturbing element of truth-she did know me better than almost anyone, having observed me closely throughout her life.

The realization that she had been reinterpreting our brotherly interactions through a romantic lens for years, potentially fantasizing about me while with her mate, created a profound sense of betrayal and violation.

With renewed determination, I seized the moment of her distraction to flip our positions, pinning her briefly to the mattress before launching myself toward the door.

Without hesitation, I thrust my hand into her bra, retrieving the key with clinical efficiency before she could prevent me.

"This ends now," I stated firmly as I unlocked the door, my voice leaving no room for argument.