My Sister Stole My Mate And I Let Her (Seraphina) novel Chapter 550

Chapter 550: Chapter 550 DESTRUCTION (BONUS Chapter 1)

MIREYA’S POV

*One week after the battle on Catherine’s island.*

I’d spent so long on high alert, constantly looking over my shoulder, holding my breath, biting my tongue, that peace—the unfamiliar absence of constant adrenaline flooding my veins and constricting my lungs—felt a lot like emptiness.

Every time this feeling crept in, which was every waking moment, a fresh wave of guilt crashed over me.

Seraphina and Kieran had saved me from a torturous existence; they’d given me something resembling a home. They’d even managed to give me closure concerning Olivia, and I was eternally grateful.

But despite all that, the only thing I could focus on, what consumed my thoughts, was the Damian-shaped hole in my chest.

If there were ever a more apt example of Stockholm syndrome, it would be me.

Damian had stolen me from my home; he’d held me captive and punished me if I breathed wrong; he’d treated me like a piece of furniture to be bartered away.

Yet.

I blamed the Moon Goddess for her ill-fated pairing. I blamed fate for bringing us together. I blamed the mark Damian had put on me.

Despite the spell Alois had cast to temporarily render the tracker ineffective, I could still feel that connection, that constant tugging like I should be headed toward...something.

I tried to banish it to the farthest recesses of my mind, cramming my days with as much activity as I could: jogging the length of Nightfang at dawn and dusk, volunteering for clerical work in the strategy room as the alliance tried to close the book on Catherine and Marcus, helping in the medical wing with the wounded, even attending training courses on the grounds.

I slipped into bed every night with sore muscles and aching joints, but instead of falling into an exhausted, dreamless sleep, I lay awake, staring at the ceiling, missing and missing and missing my mate.

It was awful.

From my time in the strategy room, I knew that Damian was still in the wind. The alliance was actively searching for him, but they hadn’t found a single trace of his whereabouts.

The thought of him out there—whether he was a thousand miles away or lurking beneath my window—sent a simultaneous shiver of dread and a forbidden thrill through me.

It was a wonder I hadn’t lost my damn mind.

It was a wonder I could drag myself out of bed each morning and stumble through my bustling itinerary after yet another sleepless night.

Like today: I hauled myself out of bed, body still sore from the previous day’s activities, and went through the motions—a brisk shower, the routine application of concealer and blush to hide the shadows under my eyes and the pallor of my skin, pulling on a long, oversized sweater dress that hid how much weight I’d lost.

Then I opened my door and froze at the sight of Sera on the other side of the threshold.

“Hi, Mireya! Good morning.”

She greeted me with the smile of someone who’d had a good night’s rest. Someone who found actual peace in the arms of her mate.

I forced a smile of my own, a pathetic farce compared to hers. “Good morning, Sera.”

She cocked her head, and her eyes narrowed slightly. “Is it? You look tired.”

This—this was why I’d been avoiding Sera. Her gift made her too damn perceptive, and no amount of makeup could hide that I was a sleep-deprived wreck.

I gave what I hoped was a nonchalant shrug. “I’m okay.”

She looked skeptical, and I struggled not to fidget underneath her scrutinizing gaze, hoping against hope that she wouldn’t ask any questions.

I didn’t want to lie to her, she who had done so much for me. But I also didn’t know how to explain that, as much as I feared the cage I’d been released from, I yearned for my captor.

I knew it wasn’t Damian himself I desired. It was that connection—the magnetic pull between mates.

It didn’t matter that he was a vicious, immoral bastard; he was half my soul, and all I wanted was to be whole again.

Gods, I was such a fool.

Thankfully, Sera asked no further questions. Instead, she held out her arm. “I was just about to head to the clinic to check on Lucian. Walk with me?”

My next smile was a little more genuine as I slipped my arm through Sera’s and let her guide me down the corridor.

Nightfang had woken up, and we passed several pack members, each one hurrying from one task to the next, each one, in their own way, picking up the pieces of their world that had been turned upside down.

I often let myself get swept up in that flurry of activity, but underneath it all was the nagging sense that I was moving against the current. Like I was fixing someone else’s life while mine lay in shambles.

“I’m sorry.”

I turned to Sera, blinking in surprise at her apology.

“What?” I asked. “Why?”

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