Filed to story: Mated and Hated by My Brother’s Best Friend Book PDF Free by Anna Campbell
The scout’s gaze flicked toward me, then down to the dirt, like speaking it aloud would solidify something he wasn’t ready to make real.
“A white circle. Empty in the middle. Burned into the canvas of their tents. Painted over their armor plates. Etched onto their blades.”
The clearing stilled.
Bastain stiffened like someone had cracked open an old memory behind his eyes. His jaw clenched, and his breath hitched just once before he masked it behind a slow, deliberate inhale.
“You know it,” Eva said quietly, watching him too closely to miss the shift.
He gave a slow, reluctant nod. “It’s not new. It predates the Council. Predates the split
“Predates the gate?” Nate asked, stepping in.
Bastain’s voice dropped. “It’s the mark of the Gatekeepers.”
The name sounded ceremonial. Regal. But his tone was anything but reverent.
“They were a hidden order,” he continued, eyes now distant, locked on something none of us could see. “Scholars. Watchers. Enforcers. Their only allegiance was to the balance between realms. They saw the Veil not as a barrier-but as sacred law.”
Eva’s voice was low. “Sworn to protect it.”
Bastain nodded. “Or eliminate anything that threatened it.”
“Protect or destroy?” Nate pressed, arms crossing tight over his chest.
“Whichever is required,” Bastain said grimly.
The wind picked up. Just slightly. Enough to rattle the leaves overhead..
The scout shifted uncomfortably, drawing our attention back to him. He tooked pale now-paler than when he arrived as if carrying the message had aged him.
He turned to me directly, and it felt like the whole world narrowed to the space between us.
“They sent a message,” he said.
The words landed like stone dropped in still water.
My breath caught. “What kind of message?”
He swallowed. Hard. His hand trembled as he pulled a crumpled parchment from his belt but didn’t hand it to anyone.
“He said,” the scout murmured, his voice cracking around the syllables, “he wants an audience with the Ethereal.”
Silence.
Not the stunned kind.
The dangerous kind.
The kind that waits to see who flinches first.
“And if he doesn’t get it?” Eva asked.
The scout looked at me again, helpless.
“The
“Nathaniel’
It was just past dusk when I found Ethan waiting for me near the outer ridge, arms crossed, his silhouette framed by the last strip of golden light bleeding through the trees. The shadows clung to him like armor, like he needed something more than skin to keep himself steady,
He didn’t speak at first. Neither did I.
We had always been like this-saying the most in the silences.
But this silence was different. He wasn’t here to offer quiet comfort. He was here for something else. I could feel it in the way he didn’t quite meet my eyes. In the way he flexed his jaw, like the words were already there, just waiting for a place sharp enough to land.
“You shouldn’t have let her go to them,” he said finally.
His voice was low. Controlled. But I knew Ethan well enough to hear the fury woven beneath the surface. Not wild. Not reckless. Focused. Lethal
I took a breath, slow and steady. “She didn’t ask for permission.”
“She didn’t have to.”
He stepped closer, the distance between us dissolving like smoke. “You’re supposed to be the one who keeps her grounded. You’re supposed to know when she’s not ready.”
“And you’re supposed to trust me,” I said, trying to keep my voice even. “We used to be able to do that, remember?”
His eyes flashed. “That was before she nearly burned herself apart. Before you let her spiral.”
“I didn’t let anything happen to her.”
“You didn’t stop it either.”
We stood there, toe to toe, old wounds surfacing like splinters breaking through skin. There were no raised voices, no shouted blame-but it felt heavier this way. Like every word had been forged from guilt and worn thin from being left unspoken too long.
“You think I haven’t blamed myself?” I asked.
He said nothing.
“I haven’t slept,” I continued, voice rougher now. “Not really. Not since the night she disappeared. And when I finally found her again, she wasn’t just Jiselle anymore. She was fire. Memory. Grief. A living prophecy. And I still wanted her.”
Ethan’s jaw twitched.
“I want her,” I said. “Not because she’s powerful. Not because she’s flame. But because she’s herself. The girl who throws punches too early. The one who won’t let go of people even when she should. The one who’d burn down the world for you.”
He looked away at that. Just for a second.
“I know you love her,” I said.
“She’s my sister,” he replied. “Of course I love her.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
He didn’t respond, but his silence gave me the answer anyway.
We’d both loved her for different reasons. And she had nearly broken under the weight of both.
“I’ve made mistakes,” I said, softer now. “We both have. But if you still think I’m just here for the flame, then maybe we were never brothers at all.
That cut.
I saw it land. Saw the memory rise behind his eyes-of days in the Academy where we bled side by side, where we made silent pacts in training grounds and back alleys. Where we stood over each other’s bodies in mock trials and promised we’d never be the kind of men who took power before trust
Ethan let out a slow breath, the kind that sounded like it had been trapped in his chest for weeks. Maybe longer.
“I don’t think that,” he said at last, voice low, like he wasn’t sure if he should say it or if he’d regret it once it was out.
The tension didn’t vanish. The fire between us didn’t die. But it changed color-anger melting into something older, something heavier. Grief. Worry,
Exhaustion.
“I’ve just…” He dragged a hand through his hair, the gesture rough, as if it might shake the thoughts loose. “I’ve watched her lose too much, Nate. Our parents. Eden. Pieces of herself. Pieces I couldn’t protect.” His voice tightened. “And I was afraid she’d lose you too. Or worse… that you’d lose her and still hold on like it hadn’t already happened.”
My throat clenched.
“I haven’t lost her,” I said, each word slow, measured, like they were a vow I needed to re-swear just by speaking them aloud. “Not yet.”
Ethan’s eyes met mine. Something behind them flickered-acceptance, maybe. Or hope dressed up as skepticism.
He nodded once, like it hurt to do it. “Then don’t.”
We stood in silence again.
But this time it didn’t feel like war.
It felt like memory. Like two boys who used to make blood oaths in training yards, who shared stolen bottles and inside jokes and bruises that healed faster than trust.
I stepped forward, the space between us narrowing, then extended my arm-slow, deliberate, the way we used to when a fight ended, when nothing more needed to be said but everything still hung in the air.
He stared at it for a beat too long.
Long enough to let pride make its case.
Then he reached out.
Qur forearms locked-tight, steady. The grip of warriors. Of brothers. Of men who had fought over the same girl, and finally realized they were on the same side.
“I never stopped seeing you as my brother,” I said, voice barely above a whisper.
Ethan’s grip tightened. “Then let’s start acting like it.”
We let go at the same time.
Not with dramatic finality, but with something quieter. Something that settled between us like a bandage pulled tight.
Not healed.
But held.
Before either of us could say another word, the forest rustled behind us. Bastain stepped into the clearing, his face pale, grim, and serious in a way that never meant good news.
“You’ll want to come,” he said, his gaze locked on me.
“What is it?”
“Kael’s demanding to speak,” Bastain said. “And he’s asking for Jiselle by name.”
I had wandered to the northern edge of the camp, following the soft pulse that now lived just beneath my skin. It wasn’t the same thrum of power I’d felt when the flame first woke inside me. No-this was subtler. More ancient. Like something long-forgotten stirring beneath the weight of centuries.
But that didn’t mean it was safe.
I’d knelt beside the leyline’s edge, fingertips grazing moss that hummed with silent energy, I thought of Serina-her name echoing in my chest like a lost song. Her memories had bled into mine. Her pain, her sacrifice. Her fire. And now…
Now, I wasn’t sure what was hers and what was mine anymore.
The flame responded to those thoughts. Violet heat shimmered beneath my skin, curling through my ribs like smoke in reverse. It didn’t hurt. Not yet. But it didn’t feel entirely like me, either.
I stood slowly and turned back toward camp, unsure if I’d been gone minutes or hours.
Nate was already there-waiting.
He stood with his arms crossed, his brow furrowed like he’d been pacing. When his eyes found mine, something flickered in his expression-not relief. Not quite. Something closer to hesitation.
“Where were you?” he asked softly.
“Walking.”
“Alone?”
“Needed to be.”
He didn’t speak again right away. Just stepped closer until the tension between us felt almost unbearable.
“You glow now,” he said at last.
I blinked. “I what?”
New Book: Veiled Desires of the Alpha King Novel
Dayson was the alpha of the largest pack in North America. Powerful figures from other packs sought to offer gorgeous girls as potential mates for Dayson. He steadfastly rejected these advances, he was not a pawn to be manipulated. But eventually there came a mysterious girl he could hardly say No. Who was she?