My Sister Stole My Mate And I Let Her (Seraphina) novel Chapter 463

Chapter 463: Chapter 463 COME AND GET ME

SERAPHINA’S POV

Catherine and Marcus had spent years hiding in the shadows.

Their operations hid beneath secrecy—false names, hidden routes, erased memories, sealed minds.

They had built their empire beneath the surface, so people could whisper about disappearances but never point to a door and say, there, that is where the monster lives.

Jack, however, might as well have been standing on top of a mountain, wearing a neon sign reading: COME AND GET ME!

Kieran had already been digging into him for months once he found out that Jack was responsible for the earlier rogue attacks on me.

Once we had his location from the puppet’s mind, everything moved with ruthless precision.

The first signs were quiet.

A missing shipment here.

A frozen account there.

A courier route that suddenly went dark.

Then came the raids.

Not loud enough to look like open war, nor reckless enough to leave bodies in the street, but precise strikes meant to choke Jack’s network until every hidden vein surfaced.

Warehouses connected to rogue trafficking rings were shut down by human authorities after anonymous tips exposed illegal weapons, false documentation, and smuggling operations.

Underground transit routes used to move wolfsbane and captives disappeared overnight after allied patrols intercepted transport teams and handed carefully prepared evidence to law enforcement.

Shell companies Marcus had used to funnel money toward Jack began collapsing one after another under investigations that looked almost impossibly well-timed to anyone who did not know how long we had been preparing.

Quiet pressure first.

Isolation second.

Exposure last.

By the third day, the atmosphere across both the human and werewolf worlds had shifted so sharply that even standing still felt like standing inside a gathering storm. 𝕗𝐫𝚎𝗲𝘄𝐞𝕓𝐧𝕠𝘃𝕖𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝚖

Nightfang now felt less like a home and more like the heart of a war machine.

The massive strategy room pulsed with constant movement as reports poured in faster than anyone could properly sort them.

Monitors lined nearly every wall, displaying rotating surveillance feeds, territorial updates, financial statements, public sentiment charts, and news coverage from both human and werewolf networks.

The long central table had vanished beneath organized chaos—files stacked beside tactical projections, half-drunk cups of coffee abandoned near glowing laptops, hastily scribbled notes overlapping supply manifests and patrol rotations.

The air smelled of paper, overheated electronics, stale coffee, and exhaustion.

Representatives from all the allied packs moved through the room, elbow deep in one assignment or another.

Everyone was tense but disciplined, swept along by the relentless pace of people trying to keep up with s shifting storm.

I made continual rounds, scanning the room and checking in with team members, but remained distracted by the reports spread across the table in front of me.

Public sentiment indexes.

Pack reactions.

Territorial statements.

The numbers climbed higher every hour.

Fear.

Anger.

Outrage.

...Toward rogues.

That was the dangerous part.

I could feel it spreading beneath the surface like oil through water, slow and suffocating and difficult to contain once it started moving.

Jack operated through rogue channels long enough that, naturally, the public couldn’t see one bad egg from any wolf outside a pack border. Fear never bothered with precision.

Maya approached briskly from one of the side stations, holding a tablet tightly, her face grim.

“Three more incidents,” she said quietly.

I looked up. “Where?”

“Two rogue-owned businesses vandalized near Gray Hollow territory. One assault outside a border market. The victim survived, but barely.”

A cold pressure settled behind my ribs.

“What did the local Alphas say?”

“Mixed responses.” Maya folded her arms, her expression tightening. “Some condemned it publicly. Some are pretending not to see it.”

Which usually meant they secretly approved of it. Or considered it convenient.

Neither possibility sat well with me.

My fingers curled against the edge of the table.

“Increase monitoring around rogue-heavy districts,” I said.

Maya nodded. “Done.”

“And make sure the reports of harassment are logged separately from Jack-related arrests. I don’t want anyone burying hate crimes beneath our campaign statistics.”

Her expression softened. “Good idea.”

I looked back down at the reports, but before I could refocus, the door opened at the far end of the room.

Cedar. Rain. Home.

Kieran.

The tension in my chest eased instinctively, even before I looked at him.

He entered with Gavin at his shoulder, both of them wearing the kind of exhaustion that came from too many meetings and too little sleep.

Gavin loosened his tie, ran a hand through his slightly mussed hair, and immediately headed to the back of the room, muttering something about needing coffee strong enough to revive the dead.

Kieran came straight to me.

The room shifted around him in the subtle way rooms always did when he entered them.

Conversations did not stop, but they changed shape, sharpening around his presence. He carried authority without raising his voice, and tonight it clung to him more heavily than usual.

His hand brushed against my lower back when he stopped beside me.

“How was the council meeting?” I asked.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify