Filed to story: Mated and Hated by My Brother’s Best Friend Book PDF Free by Anna Campbell
“I won’t be alone,” I answered. “Not really.”
He stared at me. I stared back.
And then he nodded.
Not in approval.
In trust.
“I’ll be just behind the ridge,” he said. “Say the word-hell, think it-and I’ll be there.”
I smiled faintly. “I know.”
I spent the next hour in silence, walking the perimeter of the gorge, letting my feet memorize the terrain. Every root. Every shadow. The canyon itself was shallow at first, but it deepened fast, cut into the world like something ancient had once needed to bleed.
The leyline pulsed beneath it like a second heart.
Eva stayed close while I prepared. She didn’t offer a speech or a lecture. She didn’t treat me like glass. Just handed me the satchel with water, herbs, a small charm for grounding. “For after,” she said simply.
I took it. “Thank you.”
“You sure about this?”
“No,” I whispered. “But I’m ready.”
As I turned to go, something tugged at my spine.
Not pain.
Something deeper.
My shoulder blades twitched-and then burned.
I gasped and dropped to one knee.
“Jiselle?” Eva’s voice sharpened. She crouched beside me, hand on my arm.
The burn spread across my back like ink beneath the skin. Not heat like fire-heat like memory, My breaths came short, and I clawed at the back of my shirt. My skin felt electric, as though it had been struck by lightning. As if something inside me was trying to speak through my bones,
Eva’s eyes widened. “Jiselle-your scar.”
UYTUY
I gritted my teeth. “What about it?”
“It’s glowing.”
I froze.
Not white.
Not gold.
Not red.
Violet.
She pulled my collar down gently, and I felt her breath catch.
“What does it look like?”
Her voice was soft. “A key. Carved in flame.”
I stood slowly, ignoring the shaking in my limbs. “Then that’s what I’ll be.”.
The veil-fire was older than the campfires of our people, older than the Academy’s rituals, older than even the first Council scrolls. It wasn’t kindling. It wasn’t natural. It was the raw, flickering line where magic met mortality-and demanded payment.
The wind had changed by the time I reached the gorge.
The air tasted like iron and pine.
I stepped into the circle carved into the dirt by flame. Not mine. The Gatekeeper’s messengers had already begun the ritual-silent marks drawn in ash, sigils only half-understood. But I didn’t flinch.
I lit the veil-fire myself.
Not with power.
With presence.
The moment my feet met the circle’s center, the sigils ignited. Violet and white flame shot upward in a perfect column-then split, rippling across the clearing in soft, pulsing lines. It didn’t burn. It shimmered.
I stood in the center.
And waited.
He arrived quietly.
No footsteps.
No fanfare.
One moment, I was alone.
The next-I wasn’t.
The Gatekeeper stepped from the shadows.
He wore a mask carved from something bone-white. Smooth. Featureless. His robes were ash-gray, stitched with thread that shimmered faintly when the veil-fire passed over them. Around his neck hung a single shard of obsidian, shaped like a tooth.
He said nothing.
Neither did I.
We stood in stillness.
And then he bowed.
Not deeply. Not out of deference. But like someone acknowledging an equal.
“Ethereal,” he said.
His voice was low. Musical in a way that didn’t belong to any known tongue.
I inclined my head slightly. “Gatekeeper.”
We stared at each other for a long beat.
Then he said, “Do you know why we come?”
“To test me. To threaten balance. To demand my flame.”
He tilted his head. “No. We come for your origin.”
My pulse skipped.
Behind me, I heard nothing-but I felt the tension ripple along the leyline.
“What do you mean?”
“You think your flame was born in prophecy,” he said. “But it was born from breach. From broken chains. Your birth was the answer to a question none of us dared to ask.”
I frowned. “What question?”
He stepped forward once, still inside the veil-fire boundary. “What happens when the Veil tries to protect itself?”
I froze.
He went on. “You are not prophecy. You are instinct. A response. A last-ditch whisper from the world itself.”
“That’s not possible.”
He smiled beneath the mask-I felt it more than saw it.
“Possible means little when the flame answers first.”
I steadied myself. “Why now?”
“Because it stirs again.”
“The Gate?”
“No,” he said. “The thing behind it.”
A beat.
Then he whispered, “And it remembers you.”
That stopped everything.
Even the fire paused in its rhythm.
Before I could speak, he reached into his robe and pulled out a slip of parchment. A rune was burned into it-half-familiar. It pulsed faintly in my direction, drawn to me like a child reaching for its mother.
“What is that?”
He handed it to me.
“Your name,” he said. “The first one.”
“I already have a name.”
He looked at me with something unreadable.
“Do you?”
I didn’t answer.
Couldn’t.
Because as the rune touched my hand, something deep in my scar pulsed again-violet and ancient.
My vision swam.
And for a brief, terrible moment-
I saw a woman burning on a cliff.
Her mouth opened.
And my voice came out.
Not my present voice.
But my first.
I dropped the rune. My knees hit the ground.
The Gatekeeper didn’t move.
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?