Chapter 1
On my birthday, Patrice Frost promised he'd be with me, but he was gone all night.
By the time I'd reheated the dishes for the fifth time, my phone buzzed with a photo of my sister and Patrice. They looked intimate.
One careless moment, and the gas exploded, sending flames soaring into the sky.
Just before I lost consciousness, I dialed Patrice's number.
Patrice answered, sounding totally impatient.
He snapped, "Are you done yet? Don't you know it's your sister's birthday today?
"Don't be so selfish. I've been by your side for three years. Can't you let her have this one day with me?"
"Enough. If you keep making a scene, I won't bond with you."
Patrice hung up, and I passed out.
When I woke up in the hospital, I went straight to the Beast Mate Center.
"Hi, I want to switch my mate. Give me the most loyal one you've got, and make sure he's got the attitude," I said.
*****
The staff at the Beast Mate Center were taken aback.
Patrice and I had one month left until our three-year bond.
Suddenly switching mates like this must mean something serious.
She glanced at the bandage on my forehead, and her face grew solemn.
"Ms. Summers, did your beast mate harm you?" she asked.
"If that's the case, we'll dispose of him immediately."
Patrice was a werewolf, and she assumed he'd gone wild and attacked me.
Beast mates were made to serve and accompany humans.
If a beast mate ever dared to hurt their master, they'd be euthanized, no questions asked.
Thinking of that indifferent look on Patrice's face, I finally shook my head.
He didn't hurt me.
He just didn't love me.
I bit my lip, remembering that night three days ago.
That was my birthday.
I always spent my birthday alone.
I kept begging Patrice until he finally agreed to be with me that day.
But from morning till night, all I got were calls that never went through and a silent phone screen.
I kept microwaving the dishes again and again.
By the fifth time, my younger sister Sophie finally couldn't help herself and sent me a text.
Sophie: [Patrice is with me. Stop bothering him. Emma, don't you have any shame? Patrice doesn't love you at all. Why can't you let him go?]
She also sent a photo.
In the picture, Patrice had his arms around Sophie, wiping cream off her face, looking at her like she was his whole world.
I'd never seen him look at anyone like that before.
I spaced out for a moment and didn't even notice the gas leak.
My head was fuzzy, and my hands trembled as I shakily dialed Patrice.
"Patrice, help me," I pleaded.
The line was noisy. I could hear men and women laughing in the background.
Patrice's voice was icy. "Emma, can you stop pestering me? Don't you know it's Sophie's birthday today?
"Why are you so selfish? I've been by your side for three years. Can't you let her have this one day?
"Enough. If you keep making a scene, I won't bond with you."
He hung up, and when I called again, all I got was a busy signal.
I fell helplessly onto the cold floor.
Of course I knew it was Sophie's birthday.
But Sophie and I were twins.
Her birthday is mine, too.
Everyone adored Sophie.
Even Patrice, who once swore he'd love me forever, was like everyone else.
As the flames soared, I felt completely numb inside.
Maybe dying right then wouldn't have been so bad.
Thankfully, someone ended up saving me. Otherwise, I'd probably be smoke drifting away by now.