My Sister Stole My Mate And I Let Her (Seraphina) novel Chapter 289

Chapter 289: Chapter 289 LIKE A GUILTY TEENAGER

KIERAN’S POV

Gavin didn’t knock; he rarely did when he knew I was alone.

I was reviewing patrol schedules when he paused just inside the office, arms crossed, wearing that deliberately neutral look that always signaled he was about to drop something significant.

“They’ve been delivered.”

I didn’t look up right away, but my pen paused, hovering over the page—then continued its stroke as if nothing had changed. Only when I finished the line did I set it down and lift my gaze.

“Confirmed?”

“Yes,” he said. “Exactly as you specified.”

No crest. No signature. No trail that led back to Nightfang—or me.

“And?” I asked.

Gavin shifted, his gaze darting to the window and back, searching my face for the question I wouldn’t voice: How did Sera react?

“They weren’t received by Sera herself.”

I went rigid. Irritation flared instinctively, sharp and ugly.

I leaned back in my chair, muscles tensed. “Who did?”

“Maya.”

A breath slipped free, and the knot in my shoulders loosened a fraction.

Not quite relief. But close enough to count.

“Good,” I said.

Better, honestly.

Sera might have questioned the butterflies, hesitant to accept them without knowing their origin.

But I was willing to bet anything that Maya recognized them immediately, and I doubted Sera would reject anything that bore her best friend’s stamp of approval.

I nodded once. “That will be all.”

Gavin didn’t move.

Instead, he hummed low, leaning against the doorframe with an infuriating air of ease.

“So,” he said, “when did you become the kind of Alpha who sends anonymous gifts like a guilty teenager?”

I shot him a flat look. “You’re still here.”

“Unfortunately,” he replied with a grin.

I steepled my fingers on the desk. “Make your point.”

“Oh, I intend to,” Gavin said. “Lunewing Butterflies aren’t exactly an impulse buy. Rare, powerful, and incredibly hard to acquire. You burned favors for those. You could’ve at least attached your name.”

“I chose not to.”

“Mm-hmm.” He tilted his head. “Why?”

I straightened slowly, resting my forearms on the desk. “The important thing isn’t who sent them,” I said instead. “It’s that they help Sera.”

He raised a brow. “You don’t think she’ll figure it out?”

“Eventually,” I admitted. “But by then, they’ll already be doing their work.”

A pause stretched. Gavin’s humor faded, replaced by a sharper, more searching look.

“You’re serious,” he said.

I met his eyes. “About Sera? Always.”

“No,” he corrected quietly. “About not needing the credit.”

My jaw tightened.

I didn’t answer.

Because the truth was both simple and deeply uncomfortable.

If Sera turned away a gift simply because it came from me, I wasn’t sure how I’d handle it.

Besides, the Lunewings hadn’t even been my idea.

Margaret had mentioned them weeks ago, her tone carefully casual when she brought it up.

She’d come to my office without an appointment.

That alone was out of character.

She stood across from my desk, hands clasped at her waist, posture immaculate—but she didn’t sit when I gestured to the chair.

Her gaze wandered, tracing the room’s edges as if she needed to anchor herself or steady something internal.

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