My Sister Stole My Mate And I Let Her (Seraphina) novel Chapter 425

Chapter 425: Chapter 425 THE INN

SERAPHINA’S POV

The scent hit me before the inn came fully into view.

It wasn’t particularly strong or terrible, just...unique enough to tell me we had crossed into a place where too many stories overlapped, where too many identities blurred together in ways that made instinct sharpen.

I slowed, adjusting the hood of my cloak as my gaze swept over the structure ahead.

From a distance, it looked unremarkable.

Two stories of timber and stone. A weathered sign hung slightly crooked above the entrance, its faded lettering barely legible beneath years of wear. Lanterns burned low along the perimeter, casting warm pools of light that softened the building’s edges.

Ordinary—deliberately so.

“This is definitely not just an inn,” I murmured.

Beside me, Kieran didn’t break stride. “Definitely not.”

His voice was quiet, pitched low enough that it wouldn’t carry, but I felt the awareness and tension in it. Controlled, contained, but very much there.

Good.

Because this place was the last place to let your guard down.

I drew in a slow breath, letting Astrid’s scent-masking perfume settle again against my senses.

The perfume was good for more than masking the scent of a partner’s pheromones.

Right now, I didn’t smell like Seraphina Lockwood.

And my partner didn’t smell like Kieran Blackthorne.

The modification was unsettling, but useful.

The moment the door of the inn opened, the quiet tension outside gave way to noise.

Voices layered over one another, laughter cutting through low conversations, the clink of glass and metal, the steady rhythm of a crowded room.

My eyes adjusted quickly, taking everything in without lingering too long on any one point.

The room was full enough that no one person stood out unless they tried to.

Travelers sat at scattered tables—some alone, some in groups—cloaked figures beside merchants, hunters beside scholars, a mix that shouldn’t have felt natural, but somehow did.

Kieran shifted closer to my side, just enough to reinforce the image we were presenting: a couple.

It wasn’t a particularly hard façade.

I leaned into him, my hand brushing against his sleeve as we moved further inside.

A woman’s voice cut through the noise.

“Can I help you?”

The speaker stood behind a narrow counter near the wall, her posture relaxed but her eyes sharp as they assessed us in a single sweep.

A nametag identified her as Kristine, the manager.

I stilled, glancing at Kieran before answering with deliberate hesitation. “Um, yes,” I said shakily. “We were told this place might help with...a problem.”

Her expression didn’t change, but her gaze sharpened even further.

“People are told many things,” she replied evenly. “What can I help you with?”

I curled my fingers into Kieran’s sleeve, grounding myself in the role.

“We’ve been searching for a long time,” I said quietly. “We were told if there was anywhere left that might have answers...”

I trailed off deliberately, letting the uncertainty hang. Letting the hope show just enough to feel real.

Beside me, Kieran’s hand settled on my back.

His voice, when he spoke, was steady, edged with restrained urgency.

“We’re just asking for information,” he said.

Kristine’s gaze flicked between us.

“How long?” she asked.

I blinked. “What?”

“How long have you been searching?”

“Three years,” I answered without hesitation.

Her eyes narrowed. “And the person you’re searching for?”

“My brother,” I said, my voice softening just enough. “He disappeared. No trace. No body. Nothing.”

“Names,” she said.

“Lena,” I said, letting the name settle naturally on my tongue. “Lena Hale.”

Kieran followed my lead.

“Seth Hale,” he said.

Kristine’s gaze lingered on us for a beat longer, like she was weighing the way the names fit.

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