My Sister Stole My Mate, And I Let Her

Chapter 499 BULLSHIT PLATITUDES

SERAPHINA’S POVCeleste stared at him in disbelief. “You’re defending her?”

He did not answer immediately.

His gaze stayed locked on mine, something deep and unreadable shifting in his eyes.

“You’re just going to stand there and look at her like that?” she demanded, her body trembling with barely contained outrage.

Her eyes were on him, not me, as if I were an irrelevant variable in an equation. “After everything you promised me?”

The grip he had on her wrist tightened slightly, not in aggression but in restraint, as if he were holding back something far more dangerous than her fury.

“You made me a promise,” Celeste continued, her voice cracking at the edges now, “you said I would be your Luna. You said I would be the one standing beside you. Not her.”

Her gaze snapped toward me with venom sharp enough to sting even at a distance. “Never her.”

The words hung there, heavy and poisonous, as if she could erase what was happening simply by refusing to accept it.

Behind her, the manor doors had opened further now.

They came one by one, spectators drawn to a spectacle they could not ignore.

Ethan stepped out first, his expression already hardening when his eyes landed on me.

Mother followed, composed as ever, though something colder passed behind her gaze the moment she registered the scene unfolding in the courtyard.

Father arrived last, his posture rigid, his silence heavier than any insult.

For a moment, I felt it again—that familiar sensation of being observed without being included, of existing outside the boundaries of belonging.

Ethan’s voice broke the silence first.

“This is getting old,” he said flatly, his tone laced with disdain that didn’t bother to hide itself. “You bring chaos wherever you go.”

Mother’s gaze held the same controlled detachment she used for everything she deemed inconvenient.

“Celeste,” she said calmly, “compose yourself. She’s not worth it.”

But Celeste didn’t hear her. Or didn’t care to.

She stepped closer to the man again, forcing herself into his line of sight as though proximity could re-anchor him to a decision he had already begun to abandon.

“You cannot do this,” she insisted, her voice lower now, more desperate than commanding. “You cannot break your vow. You said you would make me your Luna. You said—”

“I remember what I said,” he interrupted.

His voice was quiet and controlled, but it carried something that made the entire courtyard feel stiller, as though even the air itself had stopped to listen.

He finally released Celeste’s wrist.

She staggered back a half step, stunned not by the release but by the fact that he had not followed her movement with his attention.

Because his eyes had never left me.

It felt like standing at the edge of something vast and unavoidable, something that had been waiting for this exact moment longer than either of us had been aware.

The bond between us tightened again, not gently this time, but with a force that pulled at my chest, my breath, my very sense of direction.

It wasn’t pain, not exactly, but it was overwhelming in a way that made my knees weaken.

Celeste’s expression contorted, pain and fury pouring out of her.

“No,” she said again, as if repeating it could undo what was happening. “No, you don’t get to do this after everything I’ve done for you.”

He didn’t answer her.

He took a step forward instead, and my breath stalled.

Alina’s presence inside me stirred, as if she, too, were answering the call from within him.

He stopped just a few feet away from me, close enough that I could see the shift in his eyes more clearly now, the conflict there, the recognition that didn’t belong to logic but something far deeper.

“I’m Kieran,” he said, his voice feather-light.

“Kieran,” I repeated breathlessly. The name sounded so right on my tongue.

“I’m S—”

The word never finished forming.

A pressure rolled across the courtyard, heavy and suffocating, and every instinct inside me screamed before I even understood why.

A voice sliced through the courtyard, sharp and cold, like a blade desperate to draw blood.

“Mine!”

My body reacted before my mind could process it, stumbling back instinctively as my gaze snapped toward the source.

Jack.

He stood at the edge of the courtyard, as though he had always been there and only just decided to be seen.

His eyes were locked on Kieran.

"Stay away from her," he growled. "She’s mine."

Something about the way he said it made the air feel wrong, different from before when I’d heard it.

Kieran’s entire posture shifted instantly—shoulders drawing back, jaw tightening, his knuckles whitening at his sides. He took a step forward, a low growl starting deep in his chest.

Before anyone could speak again, Catherine appeared, seemingly out of thin air.

She stepped into the courtyard with her usual composure—perfected, controlled to the point of unnatural calm.

“Sera,” she said gently.

My name suddenly sounded wrong in her voice, like something she had practiced saying in different versions until she found the one she liked.

I backed away instinctively.

“No,” I said before I could stop myself. My voice shook. “No, don’t come closer.”

Her expression shifted, her lips forming a disappointed pout.

“Oh, honey,” she sighed. “Alina’s been filling your head with all sorts of poisonous nonsense.”

My pulse skittered.

“H-how do you know about her?”

She waved a hand like she was lazily swatting a fly. “Don’t worry about that, sunshine. Let’s go home.”

Her gaze swept over the courtyard, over my family, and her expression hardened ever so slightly. “You’re clearly not wanted here.”

I took another step back, heart racing, and for the first time since I’d known her, a frown carved deep lines into Catherine’s face.

“Sera.”

“Alina told me the truth,” I said, though I wasn’t entirely sure what I meant by that anymore. “She said this is an illusion. That none of this is real.”

Catherine shook her head.

“Of course she would say that,” she murmured. “She wants you isolated. She wants you confused.”

Jack took a step forward behind her, and the pressure in the air deepened again.

Kieran moved again, positioning himself slightly between them and me without fully turning away from me.

That small motion did something to my chest I couldn’t explain.

Anchor.

Protection.

Belonging.

Catherine’s eyes narrowed.

“No,” she said again, sharper this time. “Do not look at him like that.”

I blinked, stunned. She had never spoken in that tone to me before.

Her voice softened when she spoke again.

“You belong here.” She pressed a trembling hand to her heart. “With your real family.”

The words clashed, scraping against something inside me that refused to accept them.

I looked at Jack, who was looking at me with that steady, open expression.

But it didn’t anchor me this time. It didn’t look like devotion anymore. It looked like...a trap.

“I don’t know what’s real anymore,” I admitted, voice lower now, almost breaking, “but I know this doesn’t feel right.”

Catherine’s smile didn’t falter.

“That’s because you’re frightened,” she replied. “Alina is feeding you fear. She is an infection in your mind. Jack is your true mate. Your destined path. He’s what’s real. Everything else is distortion.”

Something shifted in Kieran’s expression at that.

A crack in restraint. A response he had been holding back finally surfacing.

He took one step toward me, his hand reaching out.

The moment our skin touched, something inside my chest settled into place, like a storm finally recognizing its center.

Catherine’s serene mark splintered, and something like panic flickered across her face.

“No,” she said quickly. “Sera, stop. You don’t understand what you’re doing.”

But I didn’t let go.

And neither did he.

Catherine sighed, shaking her head, and suddenly, the air around her shimmered.

“Sera,” she said tenderly. “Come here. You’re clearly overwhelmed.”

Something hit me. A sense of warmth and familiarity, like a hug.

“My love,” Catherine continued softly, stepping forward. “You’ve been frightened and confused, that’s all.”

The warmth intensified, pressing into my mind like an embrace that didn’t ask permission.

“Sera." She stepped closer again, her voice layered with something maternal, almost pleading. “Look at me. Remember me. I saved you. I protected you. I am your home.”

For a moment, I faltered.

Kieran tightened his grip on my hand.

It wasn’t possessive or restraining; it was anchoring.

As if he knew I would fall apart if I let go.

Behind Catherine, Jack’s silence broke.

“You screwed up,” he said, voice shaking with something that was not entirely under control. “You always do this.”

Catherine’s focus stayed on me, on the soft psychic warmth she was pushing forward, as if she could simply smother everything else beneath it.

“Jack,” she warned, her voice tight, “not now.”

His lips curled into a mirthless smile.

“Not now?” he repeated. “You’re already losing her. You think any of your bullshit platitudes will work?”

A pulse of pressure cracked through the courtyard.

The glass in one of the manor windows trembled.

Catherine’s expression sharpened. “Not. Now,” she gritted out.

My gaze ping ponged between them, wondering what the fuck they were talking about.

“You were supposed to stabilize her,” Jack continued, stepping forward. His voice rose now, no longer contained. “You couldn’t even do that right. How the fuck did she end up with him?”

His eyes flicked to Kieran, and something in them twisted.

“Face it,” he said, quieter now, more dangerous. “You’re no match for her.”

That last sentence landed like a verdict.

Catherine’s hand stilled in the air. A flicker of something passed across her face, too fast to register.

“Jack,” she said softly, a warning threaded through her tone, “you’re destabilizing your own bind.”

But Jack laughed once. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”

The air convulsed. The ground beneath him darkened as if shadow had weight.

Catherine turned sharply, her eyes widening.

“Jack—don’t—”

But it was too late.

His body twisted, bones shifting, reality bending as something massive forced its way through him, and darkness surged outward in violent waves.

When it settled for a fraction of a second, it was no longer Jack.

It looked like something assembled from broken night and unchecked rage, its form unstable, its edges dissolving and reforming as if it couldn’t decide what shape hatred should take.

And then it let out a deafening roar that made the courtyard tremble.