Filed to story: Mated and Hated by My Brother’s Best Friend Book PDF Free by Anna Campbell
He turned, and there it was again. The flicker behind his eyes. Like another presence was peering through.
“Sometimes I want to answer.”
I reached for his hand, desperate to anchor him-to tether us back to something real. Something human.
But the moment my skin touched his, the flame inside me convulsed. Not just a flinch or a flicker-no, it recoiled, slamming backward with such violent force that it punched the air from my lungs and ripped a cry from my throat. Not from pain. Not from fear.
From betrayal.
And it wasn’t mine.
It was his.
Ethan’s body jerked like something inside him had snapped. A tremor rippled through his muscles, and for a second, I thought he might collapse.
Then… stillness.
Not peace. Not exhaustion.
A hollow, perfect stillness that chilled me to the marrow.
He turned his head slowly, unnaturally slow, and I knew-I knew-before his eyes even met mine that whatever looked back through them wasn’t Ethan.
His mouth moved.
But the voice that came out did not belong to my brother.
“She chooses what you cannot.”
I jerked my hand away like I’d been burned, breath catching in my throat.
“Ethan?”
No answer. Not really. Just that same, unnerving smile stretching across his lips-tight, too
9:55 Wed, Sep 17 calm. Wrong.
His eyes shimmered. Not gold. Not violet. Nothing I’d seen in the flames or the leyline. They glowed with a dull iridescence, as if the color itself couldn’t decide what it was supposed to be
Ancient. Cold. Watching.
He tilted his head, and the smile curved deeper.
“You’ll understand… once she’s born.”
The words were soft, almost tender.
But there was nothing tender about what stared back at me.
I staggered back, pulse thundering in my ears.
Because that voice-gods, that voice-it didn’t belong to Aedric.
It didn’t belong to the Hollow-born.
It didn’t even belong to Ethan anymore.
It belonged to her.
To the child.
To whatever version of her was beginning to wake.
*Jiselle*
“Do you ever stop playing god, Bastain?”
Nate’s voice cut across the stronghold’s war room like a blade, sharp enough to silence even the whispering flames. The map of fractured leylines between us curled at the edges from the heat still radiating off my skin, and I could feel the pressure building behind my eyes. Again.
Bastain didn’t flinch. He simply turned his head, fingers still clasped behind his back. “Do you ever stop letting emotion compromise judgment?”
The tension cracked.
I stepped between them, my chest already tight from the child rolling beneath my ribs. “Enough.”
But neither of them looked at me. Not really.
Nate took another step forward, fire in every line of his body. “You’re planning to use him.”
“I’m planning to protect her,” Bastain replied, voice still cold, still too calm. “And if you can’t see that-“
“He’s my brother.”
“And he’s not entirely himself, is he?” Bastain’s eyes finally landed on me. “She knows it. Don’t you?”
My hands curled into fists.
The flame inside me flickered at the edges of my spine-ready to lash. It wasn’t just from the arguing. It was the child. She was reacting again. Every pulse of their anger churned her power closer to the surface.
I drew a slow breath. “Bastain, Nate… please. If we fight amongst ourselves, we lose before the Hollow-born even arrive.”
Bastain’s jaw ticked, but he turned back to the map. “One of the Triad has already been compromised. You think Aedric doesn’t know what that means?”
“He hasn’t lost himself,” Nate snapped. “He’s not like them.”
“You’re not sure.” Bastain didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t need to. “And if you’re wrong-if Ethan becomes the doorway-then everything we’ve built falls.”
9:55 Wed, Sep 17
Nate’s nostrils flared. His wolf flashed behind his eyes, and for a terrifying second, I thought he’d shift. Not out of instinct, but rage.
I reached for his hand, the heat between our palms barely contained. “Stop. Please. She feels everything.”
That got through to him. Barely.
He looked down at me, throat bobbing. “Then you know why I can’t sit still and let him make these decisions for us.”
I nodded, but I didn’t speak. My belly tightened again-low, deep, like something inside me was gripping the center of my body and twisting.
The contraction passed, but my breathing didn’t slow.
Bastain rolled up the map. “The child is already beginning to choose. Whether you like it or not.”
I turned toward him sharply. “And what exactly is she choosing, Bastain?”
He didn’t answer.
He didn’t have to.
Because in that moment, I felt her again. Not just stirring. Not just responding.
Listening.
***
That night, Ethan didn’t return.
Not for food.
Not for council.
Not even to see me.
It wasn’t like him-not since the bond had begun shifting. Not since he’d started hearing her voice in flame.
His room was dark when I opened the door, but I knew before I even stepped inside that he wasn’t there. The bed was still perfectly made, undisturbed, with the blanket folded at the corner just as he’d left it the morning before. The scent of candlewax and burnt lavender lingered faintly in the air, but it couldn’t cover the absence. Not from me.
9:55 Wed, Sep 17
I knelt beside the bed and brushed my fingers along the cold floorboards, my breath catching when I reached the center. The rune-etched deep beneath where his head would’ve rested- was back.
The one I had scrubbed away with tears in my eyes and blood in my palms.
Now, it pulsed again, deeper, darker, carved into the stone with something not entirely of this world. I didn’t need to touch it to feel the hum. But I did anyway. My skin prickled the second I brushed the edge. Warm. Wet. Blood.
Fresh.
I left the room before my own fear could slow me down.
The halls were empty, the stronghold thick with quiet. Not peace. Not rest. Just the kind of quiet that came before the sky cracked open and something dark poured through.. wrapped myself in my cloak and passed the eastern gate just as the sun dipped below the ridge. The edge of it lit the trees in dying gold, and even that couldn’t shake the chill pressing down my spine. I walked without knowing exactly where I was going. But my steps were sure. Guided. Pulled.
The path bent sharply just past the outer wards. I followed it, heart tightening with every step. And when the leyline shimmered faintly through the trees ahead, I knew I was close.
That’s where I found it.
A scrap of fabric-caught on a bramble like it had been torn in a struggle.
Torn. Dark. Spattered in red.
I reached for it with trembling fingers and turned it over slowly in my palm.
Ethan’s shirt.
The one he wore under his tunic. The one I’d mended just a week ago, patching a frayed seam near the collar. My stitch was still there-though it was now soaked in blood.
My stomach turned. Not from fear alone, but from something deeper. Instinct.
Something ancient and guttural clawed its way through my chest and into my throat.
I dropped to my knees and pressed my palm to the earth. The dirt was soft. Warm.
Still warm.
The blood hadn’t dried.
9:55 Wed, Sep 17
“Ethan,” I whispered, though my voice barely carried beyond the trees. “Where are you?
The only answer was the wind. It moved through the leaves above me like breath through clenched teeth. Slow. Tense.
The leyline beneath my knees flickered weakly. I could feel it, like a dying heartbeat stuttering between pulses.
And then the child moved.
Not softly. Not gently.
She kicked hard-once, twice-her presence slamming into me from the inside like a force too vast for one body to contain.
I cried out, the sound pulled from somewhere low in my spine as pain flared through my ribs and down into my hips.
Another kick.
Another contraction.
They weren’t like the small flutters I’d felt before. These were full-bodied. Sharp. Real.
I clutched the nearest tree and pressed my forehead against the bark, trying to breathe through the tightening across my belly.
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