My Sister Stole My Mate And I Let Her (Seraphina) novel Chapter 472

Chapter 472: Chapter 472 WE KNOW SERA

SERAPHINA’S POV

My wide eyes took in the small, fierce face that appeared on the screen, a jolt sparking through my chest.

Ava.

She stood in what looked like one of Nightfang’s training rooms, shoulders squared, chin lifted, green eyes shining with the same defiance that had once made her bite my hand in Moonlight Alley.

My breath caught.

“What is this?” Ethan murmured.

No one answered.

Because none of us knew.

On-screen, Ava glanced at someone behind the camera, then looked forward again as if she were preparing to fight the entire world with nothing but her voice.

“My name is Ava,” she said. Her voice trembled at first, but only for a moment.

“I don’t know much about politics. I don’t know what a silver wolf is supposed to be. I don’t care what scary old books say or what some mean Alpha on TV wants everyone to believe.”

Ava swallowed, and her voice steadied. “But I know Sera. And I know what she did for me.”

A strange, aching pressure built behind my eyes as the room disappeared for a moment, and Moonlight Alley rose in my mind.

A narrow street.

A stolen compass.

A little girl with fox-sharp eyes and so much fear hidden beneath too much pride.

“When I met her, I stole from her,” she said bluntly.

A startled sound moved through the council chamber, but I barely heard it.

“I stole something important, something her son made for her.” She glanced off-camera again before she refocused.

“She chased me, caught me, and had every right to hand me over or punish me or walk away after getting it back.” Ava’s mouth tightened. “But she didn’t. She followed me because she saw I was crying. She found out my grandma was sick, and instead of acting like I was some dirty street thief who deserved what I got, she called a doctor. She paid for treatment and stayed. She didn’t ask me for anything in return. She didn’t make me feel small.”

Ava’s voice cracked then. “She told me I didn’t have to handle everything alone. And it wasn’t just an empty promise. She accepted me into Nightfang when my grandma died and has been taking care of me ever since. She’s the kindest person I’ve ever known. ”

My vision blurred.

I blinked hard. Once. Twice.

It didn’t help.

On-screen, Ava drew a shaky breath and lifted her chin higher.

“So I don’t care if she’s a silver wolf. I don’t care if she’s something rare or powerful or whatever. Before any of you knew what she was, she was already the kind of person who took care of scared kids in alleys and opened up her home to them.”

A stunned hush fell over the room, the tension palpable, no one daring to breathe or look away from the screen.

Then the video shifted, and another child appeared.

A little boy from Nightfang’s lower training group. I recognized him vaguely. I had once bandaged his scraped knee while he tried very hard not to cry in front of older trainees.

“My name is Toby,” he whispered, looking nervous.

Ava’s voice came faintly. “Louder.”

“My name is Toby,” he repeated. “Luna Sera helped me when I got hurt. I thought she’d be mad because I wasn’t supposed to climb the fence, but she just cleaned my knee and told me even brave people got hurt.”

My chest gave a painful squeeze.

Another child appeared.

Then another.

A boy with missing front teeth declared, “She smiles at people who aren’t important.”

A tiny girl with curly hair whispered, “She remembered my birthday.”

Each sentence struck deeper than the last.

Some children stumbled over words. Some looked embarrassed. One forgot what he meant to say and had to start again while someone—likely Ava—giggled softly behind the camera.

That was what struck me right in the heart.

They weren’t performing.

They were telling the truth as simply as children did—without strategy, without calculation, without understanding the weight of the battlefield they had just walked onto.

Around the council table, the Alphas had gone utterly silent.

Even Helen’s guarded expression had softened into something difficult to name.

Lacy stood near the console with both hands pressed over her mouth.

“How long has this been online?” Corin asked quietly.

Lacy checked the numbers with trembling fingers. “Less than twenty minutes.”

“And?”

She looked up, eyes wide. “It’s everywhere.”

The video continued.

Ava came back on-screen briefly.

“Adults keep saying they need proof Luna Sera’s not some monster,” she said. “Fine. We’re proof. We live here. We see her when cameras aren’t watching. We know who she is.”

Then she stepped aside.

And Daniel appeared.

The air left my lungs.

My son stood in front of the camera, hands clasped tightly in front of him, trying to look composed. He almost succeeded.

But I knew him too well. I saw the tension in his shoulders. The brightness in his eyes. The way his mouth pressed together before he spoke because he was fighting to make every word steady.

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