My Sister Stole My Mate And I Let Her (Seraphina) novel Chapter 263

Chapter 263: Chapter 263 NOT IN KANSAS ANYMORE

SERAPHINA’S POV

I quickly understood something as the fight dragged on: my intervention hadn’t turned the tide. Not really.

The balance didn’t shift in our favor.

It only stopped getting worse.

My presence had relieved pressure, bought seconds, fractured assumptions.

But the rogues hadn’t come unprepared, and now that surprise had burned away, what remained was frightening competence.

They adapted fast. Too fast.

And they proved that they, too, could throw in unforeseen variables.

Something new pressed through the psychic field—thick, invasive, oily. It smothered my senses like rancid heat, slithering into my nose and down my throat before I could even name it.

Pheromones.

Not the subtle, social kind that earned pretty women free drinks. This was chemical warfare—weaponized biology.

“Cover your noses!” I shouted.

But I was too late.

The effect crashed over me in waves. My vision blurred, the world’s edges smearing and doubling.

My muscles lagged a fraction behind my thoughts, as if my brain was instructing in a language my body no longer understood.

Across the field, one rogue stood out.

He was larger than the rest, misshapen in a way that wasn’t quite a Shift—muscles jutting thick in odd places, bones bunching asymmetrically beneath skin that shone slick in the headlights.

Beta, but...altered. Mutant.

He grinned, eyes wide and unfocused, jaw distending unnaturally as he exhaled.

The pheromone cloud thickened.

Wren stumbled mid-stride, catching herself against a boulder. Gear swore, his movements sluggish, shoulders sagging as if gravity had doubled.

Iris reacted instantly.

“Masks on,” she barked, snapping a filter from her belt and over her face as she repositioned, blade flashing. “Don’t breathe deep. Rotate positions—keep moving!”

Miasma had disappeared—or, hopefully, been dispatched (properly this time).

Iris was everywhere at once, intercepting strikes, dragging Wren clear of a flanking blow, firing a precise shot that took a rogue through the knee without breaking stride.

But even her momentum faltered.

Gear took the worst of it.

It seemed he was finally feeling the injury in his shoulder, and his movements were heavier than before.

When two rogues broke through toward the transport, he planted himself between them and the vehicle without hesitation.

The impact shuddered through the ground as one slammed into him.

Gear dropped to one knee with a grunt, then forced himself upright—just as claws ripped across his side, tearing deep. Blood soaked his jacket, dark and quick.

“Gear!” I shouted.

He waved me off, jaw clenched, and braced himself again.

That was when the mutant Beta shifted tactics.

He stopped targeting the fighters.

And turned toward Codex.

Codex was crouched near the open rear door of the van, hands flying across his tablet as he stabilized the cooling wards on the crates—keeping the medication viable even as the vehicle sat crippled.

His focus left him exposed, defenseless.

The mutant inhaled deeply, chest expanding grotesquely, and released a concentrated burst straight at him.

Codex gasped and crumpled like a marionette with its strings severed.

“No!” I lurched forward despite the world tilting violently around me.

Something inside me snapped into place.

Not panic. Not rage.

Clarity—cold and absolute.

The psychic noise that had been battering me fell away all at once, like a switch flipped. The pheromone haze thinned in my perception—not vanishing yet, but suddenly...translucent.

Heat seared behind my eyes as something vast and precise aligned within me.

Alina stirred—not alarmed, not frightened.

I might not have had a full grasp on what was going on within me, but she seemed to have no reservations.

‘Ready.’

I didn’t think. Didn’t try to understand what I was about to do. Or even how.

I released.

A wave tore from my core in a silent, clean pulse—no sound, no light, only pressure.

It sliced through the pheromone cloud like a blade through smoke, unraveling the chemical influence at its core.

Purifying it.

The air cleared.

Codex gulped air, coughing as color surged back into his cheeks. Wren straightened, blinking hard. Gear drew a ragged breath, shoulders squaring as if a weight had been lifted off him.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify