My Sister Stole My Mate And I Let Her (Seraphina) novel Chapter 518

Chapter 518: Chapter 518 THE LAST THING

SERAPHINA’S POV

By the time I returned to Mother’s room, Ethan hadn’t moved.

He was still sitting beside her bed with one hand loosely wrapped around hers, his thumb absentmindedly brushing slow circles across her skin as though the gentle rhythm could somehow guide her back to us.

He looked up when I walked in.

“Everything okay?”

I nodded, though it took me a second longer than it should have to answer. “It will be.”

I lowered myself into the chair beside him and laid my head on his shoulder.

Outside, I could hear the distant sounds of the estate carrying on with its ordinary routines—footsteps on gravel, someone calling instructions across the training grounds, birds singing in the gardens.

Life.

It felt almost surreal that it had resumed so easily.

I studied Mother’s face again.

She looked peaceful, and I found myself wondering whether she was dreaming or simply floating somewhere between worlds, waiting patiently for her body to remember how to wake.

Ethan’s voice broke gently through the silence.

"Does Celeste know?"

The question lingered between us for a moment before I understood what he meant.

"About Mother?"

He nodded.

“I don’t know,” I admitted, lifting my head. “I haven’t seen her since we got back.”

Ethan let out a slow breath. “Yeah, that checks out.”

He leaned back in his chair, rubbing a tired hand across the back of his neck before answering.

"She mostly stayed in her room. She’d come out for the occasional walk or to eat if no one brought anything up, but..." He shrugged. "She kept to herself. The only person she spoke to was Mireya."

At the mention of Mireya, my chest tightened.

My thoughts immediately drifted to Damian Rooke—to the fact that the entirety of the island and its surrounding areas had been scoured and we’d come up empty.

We were actively tracking him, and I hoped we would find him soon and make him answer for his crimes.

For now, though, he was still out there somewhere, and if that knowledge sat heavy in my stomach, I could only imagine how Mireya felt.

I added visiting her to the long mental list of things I had to do.

"You okay?"

Ethan’s voice pulled me back.

"I was thinking about Mireya," I admitted quietly.

Understanding settled over Ethan’s expression, and he nodded. Neither of us spoke for a while after that.

We simply sat there beside Mother’s bed, listening to the steady rhythm of the monitors as the afternoon sunlight crept a little farther across the floor.

Eventually, Ethan broke the silence with a quiet sigh.

"Maybe we should go see Celeste."

His words drew my thoughts inward before I could answer.

For so long, the relationship between my sister and me had been painfully easy to define.

She’d always hated me, but I’d loved her anyway—until years of rejection, humiliation, and heartbreak had finally taught me to stop hoping for a place in her heart that had never existed.

Eventually, my love had curdled into resentment, and resentment had festered into something resembling hatred.

But things weren’t that simple anymore.

Ever since she’d arrived at Nightfang, something between us had shifted.

Not enough to erase the years of hurt, and certainly not enough to undo the damage she’d caused, but enough that I could no longer feel only anger when I looked at her.

The sharp edges had dulled, replaced by a cautious uncertainty I wasn’t sure how to navigate.

There was still pain. Too much of it. Too many memories that neither apology nor time could erase.

Yet beneath all of that was the uneasy awareness that we had both been Catherine’s victims—in different ways, but victims nonetheless.

Whether that left room for forgiveness, or merely a quieter kind of coexistence, I honestly couldn’t say.

The uncertainty was strangely more unsettling than the hatred had ever been.

After a long moment, I drew in a slow breath and nodded.

"Yeah," I said softly. "Let’s go see her."

Together, Ethan and I left the medical wing, the journey back to the packhouse passing mostly in silence.

The corridors seemed quieter than before, many of the alliance members having already departed for temporary quarters or returned to their own packs to begin rebuilding.

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