Atticus's POV
The moment that invitation arrived, I knew it would ignite another war between Mother and Collin. The familiar knot in my stomach tightened as I watched her scan the elegant cardstock with barely concealed disdain.
Mother has always been my mother first, and Collin's a distant second. The favoritism runs so deep that for the first decade of our lives, she convinced everyone we were born a year apart. Two separate disappointments instead of twin blessings, I suppose.
It wasn't until our former Alpha accidentally overheard Collin and me discussing our supposed age difference that the truth finally surfaced. We were twins. Always had been. The revelation explained the strange pull between us, the way we could finish each other's thoughts, the identical way we moved through the world.
That day changed everything. Collin pulled away from Mother like a wounded animal retreating to lick its wounds. There was a period where he refused to even call her Mother, referring to her only by her given name when forced to acknowledge her existence at all.
Neither of us understands her twisted logic. Why favor one twin over the other? We've stopped asking. Some questions don't have answers worth hearing.
I force myself to focus on Mother's words, though every syllable makes my jaw clench tighter. Her relentless campaign to shove Collin into a chosen mate bond with Evangeline has reached new heights of absurdity. The woman is insufferable, has been since childhood, and nothing in her character suggests that's changed.
Evangeline carries herself like royalty despite being merely the granddaughter of a former Elder. During our teenage years, she stalked Ted with the determination of a hunter tracking wounded prey. We all saw her desperate attempts to trap him, to slip something into his drink or corner him when he was vulnerable. Thank the River Goddess she never succeeded. If she had, this pack would have faced civil war, and one of us would be facing murder charges.
When I suggest taking Evangeline as my chosen mate, Mother's expression shifts to pure horror. The irony isn't lost on me. She doesn't consider Evangeline worthy of a Beta's mate, yet she's perfectly content to force her on Collin.
"Atticus, that's preposterous," Mother snaps, her voice sharp enough to cut glass. "Evangeline lacks the strength to support a Beta. She could never be the partner you need."
Chase's eyes light up with mischief. I know that look. He's about to drop a bomb that will shatter Mother's carefully constructed logic.
"Then she's equally unsuited for Collin," Chase states with deadly calm. "After all, they're twins. That makes Collin a Beta too."
The temperature in the room drops several degrees. Mother's face hardens into a mask of cold fury.
"Atticus is Silverthorn Eclipse's Beta. Collin holds no such position."
Meryl, Chase's mate, leans forward with genuine curiosity. "I thought twins shared everything. Their mate, their rank, their destiny."
"Smooth move, Chase," Ted's voice echoes through our mind-link, laced with dark amusement.
I settle back to watch Mother dig herself deeper into this hole. She either acknowledges Collin's equal status or reveals her true colors with an outright lie.
Evangeline's expression has transformed into barely concealed revulsion. Apparently, the possibility of sharing hadn't occurred to her spoiled little mind.
"Typically, yes," Mother begins, her words measured and careful. "But Collin destroyed his prospects at twenty. It was a shameful time that I prefer not to revisit. I informed Ted that Collin's actions had compromised his standing, leaving only Atticus eligible for the Beta position."
Meryl studies Collin with the intensity of a scholar examining ancient texts. The silence stretches until Collin shifts uncomfortably under her scrutiny.
"Forgive my staring," Meryl finally says, her voice deceptively sweet. "I'm searching for the monster. Only a true monster would forfeit his birthright and lose his chance at a destined mate. I'll inform you when I locate this creature, though I suspect I'm looking in entirely the wrong place."
Collin's shoulders shake with suppressed laughter. Meryl has an uncanny ability to slice through tension with surgical precision, exposing the absurdity beneath.
"Meryl, I don't appreciate your insinuation," Mother begins, her voice rising dangerously.
Meryl simply raises her hand, silencing the older woman with a gesture that would make an Alpha proud.
"I'm not insinuating anything. I'm drawing logical conclusions from your statements. Whatever Collin allegedly did must have been monstrous beyond imagination. Yet I see no monster here. Neither will his true mate, when she appears."
Our mother isn't accustomed to being challenged, much less silenced. Meryl accomplishes both with elegant efficiency.
"Collin will never find his connection," Mother declares with finality. "After all these years, he must accept that a true mate bond isn't in his future."
"Let me understand this correctly," Meryl continues, her tone conversational yet deadly. "You believe Collin will never find his mate, which means Atticus won't either. Since twins share their destined partner, you want Collin to choose Evangeline, which means Atticus must accept her too. They're twins, after all."
She pauses, studying Evangeline's increasingly green complexion.
"Oh. Evangeline's expression suggests she finds the concept of two mates revolting. This raises one final question: why settle for the twin who, according to his own mother, has no claim to high rank?"
The room falls silent. Mother's face has drained of color, while Evangeline looks ready to bolt for the nearest exit.
Meryl's question hangs in the air like a blade waiting to fall. After all these years of watching Mother's twisted favoritism, someone finally asked the right question.
What exactly have I been missing?