My Sister Stole My Mate And I Let Her (Seraphina) novel Chapter 511

Chapter 511: Chapter 511 KILL ME

LUCIAN’S POV

Shame.

It crashed over me in violent, relentless waves, stealing the air from my lungs, driving me to my knees in the shattered earth, hollowing me out from the inside.

My hands trembled uncontrollably.

They were human hands again—fingers instead of claws—but I could still feel the memory of them, the way they had hovered over Sera’s throat only moments ago.

The way I had almost—

‘That wasn’t me.’

I swallowed hard.

The truth landed with unbearable weight.

It was me.

I had hurt her. I had almost killed her.

Sera knelt next to me, still breathing unevenly, her gaze fixed on me with something that cut deeper than anger.

It wasn’t fear. It wasn’t even pain.

It was understanding. Sympathy.

And that was somehow worse.

“I...didn’t stop,” I rasped, my voice breaking before it could form properly. “I almost—Sera, I almost killed you.”

I could feel her psychic pressure, faint but steady, like invisible hands keeping me anchored in place so I wouldn’t collapse or lunge or break again.

But I didn’t deserve anchoring.

There was only one thing I deserved.

The realization burned through me so fast it turned my stomach.

“Kill me,” I said suddenly.

Sera blinked.

My voice cracked louder as I repeated it. “Kill me. Now. While you still can.”

A bitter laugh almost escaped me, but it died halfway up my throat.

“If I’m still connected to her—if Catherine’s still in me somewhere—then I’m a doorway. A trigger. A second chance she doesn’t deserve.”

My fingers dug into the dirt beneath me. “I won’t let her come back through me.”

I lifted my head fully now, forcing myself to meet Sera’s eyes even though it hurt, like staring into the sun.

“End it,” I said, quieter this time. “Before I do something worse.”

For a long moment, she didn’t move.

Then she shrugged her jacket off her shoulders and gently draped it over me.

“I will do no such thing,” she said softly.

My gaze narrowed to the tear in her sleeve. The injury was already healing, but it did nothing to alleviate the guilt coursing through me like acid in my veins.

I shook my head sharply. “You don’t understand what’s inside me.”

“I do,” Sera replied. Her voice was firmer now, cutting through my spiraling thoughts with something unyielding.

“I felt it, Lucian. I know what Catherine did to you.”

A tremor jolted through me at the mention of her name.

Sera moved closer. I heard Ashar’s warning growl behind me, and I almost turned to ask him to kill me instead—surely, he wouldn’t hesitate—but I couldn’t take my gaze off Sera’s.

“But you came back,” she said. “You fought it. You’re still here.”

“I’m not stable,” I said hoarsely. “I won’t stay like this.”

“Then we stabilize you,” she declared.

My breath hitched.

The simplicity of it—spoken like it was something that could actually be done—almost made me laugh again, except there was no humor, no energy left in me.

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” I whispered.

“I know exactly what I’m saying,” Sera replied.

And then her voice softened in a way that made my chest ache.

“Lucian... OTS is still waiting for you.”

The words hit harder than any strike I had ever taken.

For a second, the noise of the battlefield dulled. Only Sera’s voice existed.

“You think they’ll just move on?” she continued. “You think they’ll forget everything you’ve done for them?”

My jaw tightened painfully.

Sera didn’t stop. “Maya is pregnant.”

That sentence cracked something open inside me.

My breath stalled.

“What?” I whispered.

"Maya is pregnant,” Sera repeated. “She’s going to have a little pup, Lucian.”

I felt something...fizzle inside me. Somewhere deep, where instincts and memory and attachment still existed beneath everything Catherine had burned through.

“A child who’s going to grow up in a world you helped protect,” Sera added quietly. “A child who will ask about you one day. Who will want to know the Uncle Lucian who once saved their mom.”

A lump formed in my throat, and I struggled to breathe through it.

Uncle.

The word felt foreign and painful and impossibly distant.

I shook my head again, but weaker this time.

“I don’t deserve—”

“You don’t get to decide what you deserve,” Sera cut in.

A strange, fragile silence fell between us—around us. As if the entire island was holding its breath.

Then Sera exhaled slowly, and when she spoke again, her voice was gentler.

“We’re going to fix this,” she said. “Not by killing you. We’re going to break whatever Catherine left inside you. She doesn’t get to win.”

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify