My Sister Stole My Mate And I Let Her (Seraphina) novel Chapter 264

Chapter 264: Chapter 264 CATCH A FUCKING BREAK

SERAPHINA’S POV

The rest of the journey unfolded with a peaceful efficiency that felt almost unreal after the chaos of the ambush.

Gear drove with steady focus, even as Codex monitored his vitals and the vehicle’s patched systems simultaneously.

Wren scouted ahead and behind in practiced sweeps, slipping in and out of the dark like she was a part of it.

Iris coordinated with clipped murmurs over comms, trusting my input without question when I flagged minor fluctuations in the psychic field along the route.

For the first time since leaving the Institute, I wasn’t bracing for friction.

I was part of the machine.

And, eventually, when the adrenaline and narrow-mindedness of the battle faded, all I was left with was silence.

It was not the tense hush of an ambush, nor the fragile calm before violence, but the silence that follows survival—the kind that leaves too much room for thought.

Far too much room.

My hands began to tremble.

I stared down at them, flexing my fingers, as if they might belong to someone else. They looked the same. Felt the same.

And yet I knew that something fundamental had shifted.

I had felt minds. Touched them. Freaking influenced them.

The realization settled like a weight on my chest.

I wasn’t imagining things. I hadn’t panicked and stumbled into coincidence. I had sensed danger before it existed in the physical world.

I had altered the battlefield with thought alone.

I had reached into Iris’s awareness—inside another person’s perception—and changed what she could see.

A psychic.

The word echoed through me uncomfortably.

I leaned back against my seat, closed my eyes, and let the truth land.

Where had this come from?

I thought about my training, all my sessions in the Moon Hall, all the secrets my parents had kept about my life.

And then—

‘A force may have sealed away what you were born with. A memory. A truth. A power.’

‘The Starlight Hallway can attempt to repair a portion of what was lost.’

Was this it? Not a gift from the Starlight Hallway, but the unearthing of something that had always been hidden deep inside me?

The Hallway had stripped me open, rearranged me, and sent me back out into the world altered.

‘You’re still yourself,’ Alina said softly. ‘If anything, you’re more yourself now than you’ve ever been.’

A reluctant smile tugged at my lips. ‘That was...’ I breathed out, words failing to capture the feeling.

The memory of the psychic surge flickered behind my eyes—how natural it had felt once it began. How right it had seemed.

But then....

‘I reached into people,’ I replied. ‘I changed things without asking. That feels like too much power to be given. How the hell am I going to learn to control that?’

Alina didn’t answer immediately.

When she did, her voice was quiet. ‘The Hallway did not give you power. It removed the walls that kept you from accessing what was already there.’

That offered no comfort.

‘Maybe walls exist for a reason,’ I said.

‘Yes,’ she agreed. ‘And now you must learn how to build new ones—but with a gate this time. And you will learn when and how to open that gate.’

I swallowed.

‘What if there’s more? ‘I asked. ‘What if I don’t know where it ends?’

‘Then you will learn,’ Alina replied simply. ‘As you always have. And you will conquer. As you always have.’

***

By the time the coastal transfer station came into view—a fortified complex half-hidden against the cliffs—the sky was beginning to fade to another dusk.

The salt-laden air grew heavier, blending with the faint antiseptic tang escaping the sealed crates.

The local coordinator greeted us at the gate, flanked by sentries whose fatigue seeped through their rigid stances.

Relief washed over his face as Iris confirmed the shipment’s integrity.

“You have no idea how close this was,” he said, voice rough. “The infection curve spiked overnight. Another day and—”

He stopped himself, swallowing hard. “Thank you.”

I watched as the crates were transferred, signatures exchanged, and wards verified.

As the medication left our custody, the tight coil of responsibility we’d carried since Elias’s cabin finally unwound.

The job was done.

Whatever test this journey had been—and I was certain it was a test—I could only hope I’d passed.

When it came time to part ways, the moment weighed heavier than I’d anticipated.

Wren clapped my shoulder lightly and smiled, her warmest one yet. “Try not to scare the next team as badly, yeah?”

I huffed a tired smile. “No promises.”

Codex adjusted his glasses, then hesitated before extending his hand. “If you ever want help understanding what you’re doing—what you can do—reach out. I’d be...interested.”

“Careful,” I teased. “I might take you up on that.”

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