My Sister Stole My Mate And I Let Her (Seraphina) novel Chapter 194

Chapter 194: Chapter 194 MOONBATH WISH

SERAPHINA’S POV

I dreamed of firelight.

The bonfire crackled as it had last night, gold and amber shadows flickering across faces I barely registered until one came into sharp, intimate focus. Lucian.

His gaze was steady, calm, gentle. He leaned closer, and the hush of people laughing somewhere behind us faded like smoke.

‘May I?’

His warmth skimmed my skin as he leaned in. I knew what came next—

But then things shifted.

His features blurred, shifting into something equal parts familiar and strange—sharper cheekbones, a broader jaw, darker eyes shadowed in regret.

Recognition jolted me, an electric shock racing through my veins: Kieran.

Suddenly, the emotions hit different—raw, aching, tangled with years of hurt and yearning and what-ifs.

My chest tightened. I tried to pull away, to reject the dream’s cruel fusion, but I found myself leaning in instead, pulled by a force I had no control over.

Kieran’s lips brushed mine with a desperate, longing intensity, and my body’s roaring response felt like betrayal.

To the memories I built my resolve on. To the fragile distance I was fighting so hard to maintain.

He pulled back, thumbs resting on my throbbing lips.

‘Sera,’ he whispered—and I jolted awake.

For a moment, I couldn’t place where I was. I lay staring at the ceiling, heart hammering as breath scraped my throat.

Then the details returned—the softness of the guest bed, the faint scent of chamomile tea Sabrina had left on the nightstand, the muted hush of morning before the pack stirred.

It had just been a dream. A stupid, disorienting, emotionally manipulative dream.

I pressed a palm over my fluttering chest.

I was stressed enough while I was awake; I had no business going through this tug of war while I slept.

The kiss with Lucian had been nothing more than the night’s atmosphere—a moment born of warmth and vulnerability and firelight.

And Kieran? There was no future there. No possibility. Not when the wounds still bled beneath frail bandages slapped over them.

I forced myself to sit up. The chill of dawn crept across my skin, and I welcomed it, letting it chase the residual warmth from the dream.

By the time Sabrina knocked and poked her head in with a bright, “Morning! Sleep well?” I’d already showered, changed, and braided my hair.

“I did, thank you,” I lied, adjusting the cuff of my shirt as though fidgeting could fix the leftover static under my skin.

She stepped in without waiting for permission. “Lucy’s busy all day with prep for the Moonbath Wish Ceremony,” she informed me with a glint in her eyes. “So you have me today again.”

I smiled. I didn’t know what it was about me that attracted the peppiest golden retriever companions. But I wasn’t complaining.

“Come on.” She stretched a hand out, bouncing on her heels excitedly. “We need to prepare your ceremonial attire.”

I followed her down the hall, each of her excited steps steadying me. “So, what’s the Moonbath Wish Ceremony?”

“It’s one of the most sacred traditions of the Blue Moon festival. Zoe still swears it’s why she finally Shifted after being blocked for months.”

My steps faltered. “What?”

Sabrina’s smile was kind instead of pitying.

“The ceremony takes place at the Moonlit Spring,” she explained as we walked, tucking her hands into her jacket pockets. “Everyone wears plain robes—no ornaments. Then we gather and give thanks for the Moon Goddess’s blessings.”

Her voice lowered a little, taking on a quiet reverence. “When the full moon hits its highest point, the ones who haven’t found their wolf yet, or those still carrying deep wounds that hinder their transformation, step forward. They shed their robes as symbolism for leaving behind everything that weighs them down, and walk into the water.”

She glanced at me, a small smile playing on her lips. “The moonlight does the rest. They stand there, waist-deep, eyes closed, and make their wish. When they emerge, we wrap them in these thick blankets, woven from the Blue Moon fibers. It means rebirth. A fresh start.”

“Wow.” I exhaled. “That sounds...” I had no words.

“Yeah.” She nodded as we stopped in front of a door. “I used to think it was dramatic, but when I first watched the ceremony, just witnessing people walk into that water—some shaking, some crying—I felt something. Like hope wasn’t just a cruel joke.”

“And does it work?” I asked softly.

She shrugged. “That means different things for different people. No one knows what you wish, so only you can know if it comes true.”

With that, she pushed the door open.

In a quiet preparation room lined with hanging cloths of various shades of moonlight white, we met two elders who greeted me with serene nods.

They spoke softly as they guided us through the selection process of simple ceremonial robes woven from flax-like fibers, loose and plain.

“You will wear this tonight,” one elder explained. “Barefoot, with your hair unbound to symbolize groundedness and surrender. No jewelry, no adornments.”

“You will not be stepping into the spring,” another elder continued, fastening the belt around me with graceful movements. “But your presence still matters. Observers carry the wishes in silent witness.”

For some reason, that information lodged in my throat. But I ignored it. It was an honor even to be allowed to witness sacred pack tradition like this. I wouldn’t be greedy.

After preparations, Sabrina tugged me outside where the whole pack seemed to hum with quiet purpose, the air simultaneously thick with anticipation and calm.

Pack members moved with excitement, some carrying crates of dried herbs, others plaiting long ropes of plant fibers that Sabrina explained would later be dipped in symbolic oils.

Conversations were soft, reverent, even in their casualness.

Sabrina and I joined in where we could—tying bundles of herbs, sorting candles, fetching jars of oil.

It felt good to move, to be useful, our quiet laughter blending easily into the rhythm of the pack’s preparations.

Too soon, the sun dipped lower, painting the valley gold, and a soft bell rang from somewhere near the cliffs.

Sabrina glanced up at the sky, then at me. “It’s time.”

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