My Sister Stole My Mate And I Let Her (Seraphina) novel Chapter 372

Chapter 372: Chapter 372 UNDER THE MOON

KIERAN’S POV

For the second time, I woke to cold sheets and space. My hand slid across the mattress, meeting only rumpled fabric. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝒆𝒘𝙚𝓫𝙣𝙤𝒗𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

Instantly awake, I pushed up on one elbow, scanning the dark room.

“Sera?”

The bathroom door was slightly ajar, moonlight spilling through the gap.

A tight knot formed in my chest.

I was on my feet in seconds, crossing the room without bothering to mask the urgency in my stride.

After all the heaviness of the day and how she’d collapsed in my arms, I did not take her absence lightly.

“Sera?” I called again, sharper now.

I pushed the bathroom door open—and froze.

For a moment, I forgot how to breathe.

Moonlight poured through the tall window, unfiltered and silver, draping the room in a quiet radiance that made it feel almost sacred.

Sera stood in the center of that pale glow, completely still, head tilted slightly upward as if listening to something only she could hear.

The light traced every line of her—shoulders, waist, the gentle curve of her hips—and turned her skin into something luminous.

Luminous.

It sounded like poetic exaggeration when Alois first said it.

Now, staring at my mate bathed in lunar radiance, I understood it was not poetry at all. It was fact.

Desire rose, fast and primal, surging through my veins with a heat that rivaled the moonlight pooling over her skin.

Ashar stirred, pressing forward, possessive and hungry. ’Mine.’

But just as quickly as the hunger rose, caution followed.

The rogue attacks. Celeste’s confession. The psychic strain that had left her collapsing in my arms only hours ago.

I inhaled slowly, forcing control.

She had been shaking in the Frostbane corridor. Her pulse had been erratic. Her skin too warm. She had pushed herself past her limits.

The last thing she needed was me losing control.

“Sera,” I said again, more firmly this time. “You should be in bed.”

She lowered her chin as she turned slowly, and when her eyes met mine, something shifted in the air.

Her gaze held heat.

And her smile—an unmistakable invitation.

My throat tightened.

She stepped toward me, unhurried, fluid, as if the moonlight itself guided her.

The silver glow slid over her shoulders as she closed the distance between us. I curled my fingers into my palms to keep from reaching for her.

"You should rest," I murmured, as if that were my real concern. As if the sight of her, naked and glowing, wasn’t driving me bat shit crazy.

“I’m not tired.” Her voice was lower than usual, threaded with something that made my skin tighten.

I exhaled through my nose, trying to steady the storm building inside me.

“You were exhausted earlier,” I said, searching her face for signs of fatigue.

Her lips curved, and she lifted one shoulder. “Not anymore.”

She took another step forward, close enough now that I could feel the heat radiating from her skin. Her fingers lifted, brushing lightly against my bare chest.

Just that simple touch felt amplified, and a full-body shudder ran through me.

“I’m not fragile, Kieran,” she said quietly.

“I know you’re not.” My voice roughened despite my efforts. “That doesn’t mean I want you overexerting yourself.”

Her palm flattened over my heart. It thudded heavily beneath her hand.

“You’re the one who looks like he’s overexerting with restraint,” she observed.

Because I was.

Because every instinct in me demanded I drag her against me, shove her back against the nearest surface, and take her with enough force to leave her breathless and shaking.

But she had endured enough battles this week.

I would not make her endure me.

“Sera,” I warned softly.

She shook her head with a soft tsk. “What have I said about control with me?”

Before I could answer, she closed the remaining space between us, rose onto her toes, and kissed me.

Her mouth met mine with purpose, heat, and unmistakable intent. The contact sent a shock through me, sharp and electric.

For half a second, I stood frozen—caught between restraint and surrender.

Then her tongue slipped into my mouth, deepening the kiss.

Her fingers slid into my hair, anchoring me to her. The soft sound she made against my mouth—low, almost impatient—fractured the edges of control I was clinging to.

My hand slid from her hip to her waist, then higher, spanning her ribs. I felt the quickened rise and fall of her breath beneath my palm as she leaned into my touch.

“You were barely standing an hour ago,” I said, though my thumb was already tracing the underside of her breast, slow, deliberate.

Her breath caught. “I’m standing now.”

My gaze snapped back to hers.

There was no fragility there. No exhaustion. Only heat.

She pressed closer, bare thighs brushing mine, her body aligning with unmistakable intent. The friction drew a low sound from my chest before I could stop it.

Her hand moved again—this time sliding beneath the waistband, fingertips grazing hard, heated skin.

My hips jerked, my already engorged cock stiffening further.

“Careful,” I warned, but there was no force behind it.

“Why?” she asked softly.

Because if she kept touching me like that, there would be nothing gentle about what followed.

Because Ashar was already pacing beneath my skin, urging, demanding.

Because I wanted to bend her over the nearest surface and lose myself in her until neither of us could remember anything but the way we felt together.

Instead of answering, I lifted her—fast, decisive. She gasped as her feet left the floor, but her legs immediately wrapped around my waist.

Her nails dragged down my shoulders as I pinned her lightly against the cool tile wall. The temperature difference made her shiver.

“You’re sure you’re not tired?” I asked, my mouth brushing along her jaw, then down her throat.

Her head tipped back, exposing more of her to me. “Not even close.”

I dragged my teeth lightly over the sensitive skin beneath her ear, earning a sharp inhale. My hands moved lower, gripping her firmly, holding her exactly where I wanted her.

Her body responded without hesitation—hips shifting, pressing, demanding more. I felt her wetness soaking the cotton of my pants, and the knowledge of how ready she was for me sent heat racing through my veins.

I carried her out of the bathroom without breaking contact, every step hurried and deliberate. The moonlight flooded the bedroom floor, pooling wide and bright across the rug near the windows.

She noticed immediately.

Her fingers tightened in my hair, gently but with purpose, guiding my mouth back to hers before she pulled away just enough to whisper against my lips.

“Not the bed.”

My brows drew together. “Where, then?”

She glanced toward the wide window, where the moon hung full and watchful over the city.

“Under the moon,” she said softly, heat blazing in her eyes. “I want you under the moon.”