My Sister Stole My Mate And I Let Her (Seraphina) novel Chapter 537

Chapter 537: Chapter 537 AFTER (BONUS CHPTER 4)

SERAPHINA’S POV

The irony wasn’t lost on me: the last island we’d visited had belonged to Catherine.

It had smelled of blood and corruption and evil. It had been the place where friends nearly died, where impossible choices had been forced upon us, where my future and the future of those I loved had balanced on the edge of a knife.

This island couldn’t have been more different if the Goddess herself had designed it as an apology.

Here, mornings began not with alarms or urgent knocks on the bedroom door or looming responsibilities, but with sunlight spilling lazily through linen curtains while waves whispered against the shore below the villa.

Kieran and I slept later than either of us ever had back at Nightfang, with nowhere to be except beside each other.

Unhurried by schedules, responsibilities, or the weight of an entire pack depending on us, I’d become the one thing I’d never associated myself with before: idle.

Frankly, I blamed Kieran.

He had somehow become even more insufferably affectionate once we found ourselves completely alone, and every morning began the same way—soft, sleepy lovemaking, lingering caresses, and lazy conversations that drifted from one meaningless topic to the next.

By the time we finally wandered downstairs, the sun would already be high enough to bathe the kitchen in warm gold.

Not that I was ever allowed to do anything once we got there.

After spending half the journey to the island hopelessly seasick, Kieran had apparently decided I was made of glass.

The very first morning, I’d wandered toward the counter with every intention of making coffee, only to find myself unceremoniously lifted away from the counter and deposited on a kitchen stool like an unruly child.

From that moment on, I was under strict orders to remain exactly where I’d been placed while he insisted on preparing every meal himself.

I’d protested, but then he’d leaned forward, cupped my face between his large, warm hands and said softly, “You’ve spent most of our lives taking care of me. It’s my turn.”

I promptly melted into a useless puddle and let him have his way.

And he proved, much to my annoyance, that there wasn’t anything Kieran couldn’t excel at if he put his mind to it.

Every meal somehow tasted like something from a five-star restaurant despite the fact that he insisted he was "just following recipes."

“I refuse to believe this is your first attempt,” I informed him over breakfast one morning after taking a bite of fluffy lemon ricotta pancakes.

“It isn’t.”

“Aha!”

“I’ve been practicing.”

“When?”

Kieran busied himself with cutting into his own pancakes, though I caught the faint flush creeping up the back of his neck.

“After I discovered we were mates.”

My fork stilled.

“I figured...” He let out a quiet breath, a sheepish smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. “If I was going to convince you to give me another chance, I’d better have more to offer than apologies.”

He shrugged, almost embarrassed by the admission. “So every time I came across a recipe that looked like something you’d enjoy, I learned how to make it.”

He glanced around the sunlit kitchen before his gaze returned to me, warm and tender enough to steal the breath from my lungs.

“I kept imagining mornings like this,” he continued. “The two of us eating breakfast together and just enjoying the comfort and peace of each other’s company.”

My chest tightened so much it hurt.

While I’d been doing everything I could to forget him, he’d been quietly teaching himself how to make my favorite breakfasts, hoping that one day we’d have a kitchen to share.

“You’re unbelievable,” I whispered.

Kieran’s smile softened as he reached out and pulled my stool closer to his. He placed a tender kiss on my forehead.

“I was in love.”

***

Afternoons belonged to the island.

Kieran was determined to show me every hidden corner he’d loved since childhood, places I’d never reached when I’d last visited.

We wandered shaded forest trails where ancient trees arched overhead like cathedral ceilings.

He showed me cliffs where the ocean stretched endlessly toward the horizon, wildflowers blooming stubbornly from cracks in the stone.

There were tiny coves accessible only by narrow paths carved into the rock, tide pools shimmering with tiny fish and prismatic shells, and stretches of untouched beach where our footprints were the only ones in the sand.

It felt like discovering new pieces of Kieran, and I fell in love with each one.

“This was where I shifted for the first time,” Kieran said one afternoon as we stood atop a rocky bluff overlooking the endless stretch of ocean.

I turned to him, surprised. “Here?”

He nodded, his gaze fixed somewhere beyond the horizon, as though he could still see the frightened thirteen-year-old boy he’d once been.

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