My Sister Stole My Mate And I Let Her (Seraphina) novel Chapter 370

Chapter 370: Chapter 370 THROUGH HER EYES

SERAPHINA’S POV

When Celeste woke, the first thing she noticed was the restraints.

Leather cuffs at her wrists strained against the bedframe with a sharp, irritated tug. The metal ring securing them gave a faint clink in the quiet room.

“What the f—”

She stilled as her gaze landed on me, sitting on the couch opposite the bed.

“Really?” she hissed, her voice rough from unconsciousness and exertion. “Am I an animal now?”

“You lunged at Maris,” I replied. “I can’t imagine what you’ll do to me.”

Something dark crossed her face as if she were indeed imagining all the things she wanted to do to me.

“Go ahead then,” she sneered. “Do what you came to do—gloat.”

“Is that what you think this is?” I asked.

Her eyes flashed. “Oh, drop the act; no one is here to watch you play holier than thou.”

“I didn’t come here to gloat,” I said. “I came for answers.”

“I thought you already got what you wanted from your psychotic friend’s little trick,” she spat.

“Not everything I wanted. I want to know what you and Father talked about when he came to you.”

That made her pause—only for a second.

Then a sly smile curved her lips.

“It was nothing special,” she said, managing a shrug.“He came to see how I was doing, gave me money, and said everyone missed me—that they wanted me home soon.”

“That’s it?” I asked.

“That’s it.”

“You’re lying,” I said quietly.

Her expression went still.

“Why would I lie?” she asked.

I shrugged. “Why would a dog bark? Why would a lion roar?”

Her eyes flared. “Screw you. That’s what happened. End of story.”

The corner of my lips quirked. “Want to know a secret?”

“What?”

“A lot has changed since you left, and my ‘psychotic’ friend?” I leaned in. “He’s actually my teacher.”

Before she could react, before she could comprehend the sentence, I moved.

My hands came up swiftly, cupping her face.

Her eyes widened. “Sera—”

I pushed.

The sensation was different from before. It wasn’t like opening a door.

It was like punching through ice.

Celeste’s mind instinctively resisted, just as Corin predicted.

My skill was still rough around the edges.

But I didn’t need finesse; blood sang between us, a resonance like watching a reflection distort in a mirror.

Her mind was as messy as the last time I’d been in it, images fracturing across my vision.

Light. Movement. Emotion.

Then—

The cold darkness of Frostbane dissolved, replaced by warm Maldivian air thick with perfume and alcohol, the lingering heat of the day still rising from the concrete long after sunset.

Music pulsed through the rooftop lounge, bass vibrating beneath stiletto heels and crystal glasses.

Beyond the balcony, the ocean lay ink-dark and endless, dotted with the distant glow of anchored yachts and neighboring island resorts.

I was no longer standing beside Celeste’s bed.

I was inside her memories, seeing through her eyes.

After she formally severed her bond with Brett, her days were anything but miserable.

She did not collapse into heartbreak or retreat into isolation. She immersed herself in excess.

Night after night, she attended private parties, exclusive events, and invitation-only gatherings where the Lockwood name opened doors, and heads still turned when she entered a room.

She laughed easily. She dressed impeccably. She lived lavishly.

But beneath the glitter and noise, something hollow echoed persistently.

She would let a man pull her close, would let his mouth brush her neck or hover near her lips, and for a moment she would lean into it.

Yet, satisfaction never arrived. The thrill was shallow, dissolving almost as soon as it sparked.

Kharis stirred within her.

‘You are restless,’ her wolf observed.

A tiny pang shot through me as Alina recognized the voice of the sister she would never meet.

‘I’m fine,’ Celeste answered inwardly, her smile never faltering as she accepted another glass of champagne.

‘You are searching for something that is not here. You are searching for him.’

The name did not need to be spoken. Brett’s absence lingered like an ache she refused to acknowledge.

‘I will not love an Omega,’ she snapped internally. ‘That is beneath me.’

‘You did love him,’ Kharis said without accusation.

Celeste swallowed irritation and pressed herself closer to the man currently murmuring compliments in her ear, hoping he would drown out the sound of her wolf’s voice.

Brett had been temporary. A stepping stone. A comfort during a wounded period. Nothing more.

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