My Beta Mate Never Touched Me: He Marked My Half-Sister Instead

The marble floors of our penthouse gleamed under the afternoon sunlight streaming through floor-to-ceiling windows. I should have been at the spa for another two hours, but the anticipation of surprising Gavin for our third anniversary had made it impossible to sit still through another facial treatment.

Three years. Three years of marriage, and tonight would finally be perfect.

I clutched the small velvet box containing the vintage Patek Philippe watch I'd bought him—a piece that had cost more than most people's cars. But Gavin was worth it. He'd been so patient with me, so understanding about my... condition.

The penthouse felt unusually quiet as I slipped off my heels, padding barefoot across the cool marble. Gavin's car was in the garage, so he had to be home. Maybe he was in his study, working on pack business as usual.

"Gavin?" I called softly, not wanting to startle him.

No response.

I made my way down the hallway, past the gallery of our wedding photos—images of what I'd believed was the perfect love story. Gavin's study door was slightly ajar, which was unusual. He was meticulous about his privacy when handling pack affairs.

As I approached, I heard the faint rustle of papers from within. He must be reviewing documents for tomorrow's council meeting.

I pushed the door open gently, a smile already forming on my lips. "Surprise, I'm—"

The words died in my throat.

Gavin wasn't at his desk. The room appeared empty, but something was wrong. Papers were scattered across his usually pristine workspace, and the hidden panel behind his bookshelf—the one I wasn't supposed to know about—hung open.

My heart began to race as I stepped inside. These weren't pack documents. The letterhead on the top sheet made my blood run cold: "Crescent Family Asset Transfer Agreement - DRAFT."

With trembling fingers, I lifted the document. My name was typed at the bottom, but the signature line remained blank. The terms were laid out in stark legal language—a complete transfer of my maternal inheritance, including the mining rights that had made my family wealthy for generations, to one Gavin Lodge.

A bitter taste flooded my mouth. This had to be some kind of mistake. Maybe it was a contingency plan, something the lawyers had prepared just in case...

But then I saw the stack of letters underneath.

The first envelope bore elegant handwriting I didn't recognize, addressed to "My Beloved Gavin." My hands shook as I unfolded the cream-colored stationery.

*My darling,*

*I know this charade grows tiresome, but we must be patient just a little longer. That fool actually believes you abstain from her bed out of love—as if her pathetic, unawakened blood deserves such consideration. The thought of you touching that weakling makes my skin crawl, but I remind myself it's all temporary.*

*Once she signs the transfer documents, we'll have everything we need. The Crescent mining fortune will fund your campaign for Alpha, and I'll finally take my rightful place as your Luna. Then we can dispose of her properly—perhaps the rogue territories would welcome such... refuse.*

*I ache for the day when I can openly carry your heir, when the pack sees me as the strong mate you truly deserve. Soon, my love. Soon we'll be free of this pretense.*

*Forever yours,*

*Melody*

The letter slipped from my numb fingers, floating to the floor like a dying leaf.

Melody. My half-sister. The girl my father had brought home just six months ago, claiming she was his illegitimate daughter who needed our family's protection.

I sank into Gavin's leather chair, my legs no longer able to support me. The room spun as I reached for the next letter with mechanical precision.

*My sweet Melody,*

*Your patience humbles me. Watching you play the innocent, grateful daughter while that simpleton fawns over you requires acting skills worthy of Broadway. But you're right—we're so close now.*

*The mining reports came in yesterday. The Crescent deposits are worth even more than we estimated—nearly two billion in rare earth minerals. Once I'm Alpha, we'll control the largest supernatural territory on the West Coast.*

*As for my 'devoted wife,' her naivety continues to astound me. She actually thanked me last week for being so 'respectful' of her delicate constitution. If she only knew the truth—that touching her unawakened flesh disgusts me, that every moment of tenderness is calculated manipulation.*

*Her bloodline may be pure, but she's proven herself defective. Three years without awakening her wolf? She's barely better than a human. You, on the other hand... your recent fertility tests show S-class potential. Our children will be legends.*

*Keep playing your part, my love. Soon, we'll watch her crumble as beautifully as her pathetic mother did when she 'fell ill' and disappeared.*

*All my love,*

*Gavin*

The paper crumpled in my fist as a sound escaped my throat—something between a sob and a growl. Every tender moment, every gentle kiss, every night he'd held me close while explaining why we couldn't consummate our marriage... all lies.

*Defective. Disgusting. Barely better than human.*

The words echoed in my skull as I fumbled through more correspondence. Bank statements showing secret accounts. Fertility clinic reports with Melody's name. Meeting notes discussing my father's cooperation in the scheme.

My father. Richard Thorne, the man who'd raised me after Mother's mysterious illness forced her into long-term care. He was part of this too.

A new sound reached my ears—the purr of Gavin's BMW in the driveway. I looked at the antique clock on his desk. He wasn't supposed to be home for hours.

Panic shot through my system as I heard his key in the front door. I shoved the letters back into their hiding place, my hands shaking so violently I nearly dropped them. The asset transfer document—I folded it quickly and slipped it into my purse.

Footsteps echoed in the hallway, accompanied by a lighter tread. A woman's laugh—bright, musical, and sickeningly familiar.

Melody was with him.

"—can't wait much longer," Gavin was saying as they approached. "The anniversary dinner tomorrow night would be perfect. Richard's already arranged for the documents to be witnessed."

"Poor Valerie," Melody's voice dripped with false sympathy. "She'll be so heartbroken when you explain that you've found your true mate."

They were coming toward the study. I looked around frantically, my heart hammering against my ribs. The window—but we were on the third floor. The closet—too obvious.

The footsteps stopped just outside the door.

"After tomorrow night," Gavin's voice was low and satisfied, "she'll sign anything we put in front of her. Broken hearts make people so... compliant."

I pressed myself against the wall behind the door, praying they wouldn't come in. My entire world was collapsing, three years of marriage revealed as an elaborate con game, and all I could do was hide like a frightened child.

The brass handle began to turn. I squeezed my eyes shut, clutching the file folder to my chest—the damning asset transfer forms I’d just unearthed from his locked drawer.

Just as the latch threatened to click open, Melody’s sultry giggle broke the tension. "Leave the boring business for later, darling," she cooed, and I could hear the rustle of fabric as she pulled him away. "I want you now. And the bedroom is so much more... comfortable."

Gavin chuckled, a low, guttural sound. The handle snapped back into place. Their footsteps retreated down the hall, followed by the heavy thud of the master suite door closing.

I slid down the wall until I hit the floor, my legs turning to jelly.

But the flood of relief I expected never came. Instead, the silence of the room amplified the horror of what I’d just heard. It wasn't just about the money or the affair.

My breath caught in my throat as I realized the terrible truth—tomorrow night wasn't just our anniversary dinner.

It was going to be my execution.