My Sister Stole My Mate And I Let Her (Seraphina) novel Chapter 259

Chapter 259: Chapter 259 AN UGLY THING

LUCIAN’S POV

I woke with the taste of cold ash at the back of my throat.

For a disoriented second, I thought I was still in the forest, still walking that impossible loop of mist and twisted paths, still chasing a silver shimmer that never drew closer.

My muscles ached with the dull, protesting burn of overuse. My head throbbed, heavy and stuffed, like I’d been bludgeoned and then swaddled in wool.

I cracked my eyes open.

An office resolved slowly around me. Vaulted ceilings etched with ancient-looking sigils, tall windows veiled in pale morning light, shelves upon shelves of bound volumes.

It smelled like old parchment, mountain herbs, and ink.

I was sprawled on a narrow couch set against the far wall, boots still caked in mud, my coat abandoned somewhere out of sight.

I pushed myself upright, every joint complaining.

Memory crashed into me in jagged, ugly shards.

The barrier. The fog. The looping path.

My breath turning ragged as hour after hour passed with no progress—only that gnawing certainty that I was being obstructed. And the resulting stubbornness that I wouldn’t give in.

I dragged a hand down my face and laughed under my breath, the sound rough. “So that’s how you do it,” I muttered. “You don’t stop a man by blocking his path. You let him exhaust himself trying.”

“You were quite determined,” a calm voice replied.

I looked up.

Sunlight cut across the edge of the desk, catching the silver in Alois’ hair where he sat behind a large mahogany desk, hands folded, posture relaxed, expression mild to the point of aggravation.

“How long?” I demanded, swinging my legs off the couch. “How long was I parading around in your clever little illusion?”

“Long enough,” he replied, not sounding the least bit remorseful. “You collapsed shortly before dawn.”

I stood—too fast. The room tilted. I caught the arm of the couch before my knees could betray me.

My jaw tightened. “Where is she?”

The silence that followed was deliberate.

“Seraphina has already departed on the next leg of her journey,” Alois answered at last.

His words struck like a blow to my jaw.

Departed. Gone.

A wild, searing heat shot up my spine. The room snapped into focus, every edge too sharp, every sound too bright. I straightened, fists curling at my sides.

“You let her go,” I said, voice low and shaking with restraint. “You stopped me, and let him—”

Alois raised a hand. “I let neither of you reach her.”

My laugh was harsh, humorless. “Don’t insult my intelligence. Kieran was allowed to sit beside your precious moonstone and pour himself into the bond. You barred me from the mountain entirely.”

“Kieran did not enter,” Alois said evenly. “He did not see her or speak to her. He steadied her—nothing more.”

“But that was more than you let me do!” I snapped, the words burning on the way out. “How is it my fault that fate chose to hand him a tether and leave me clawing at air?”

Alois regarded me for a long moment, eyes thoughtful. “You believe I am siding with him.”

“I believe,” I said through my teeth, “that you decided which male was worth indulging.”

He leaned back, steepling his hands on the desk. “You are mistaken.”

“Oh?” I took a step forward. “Because from where I’m standing, you’ve decided the fated mate gets to offer comfort, while I’m reduced to wandering illusions until I collapse.”

“I am not helping Kieran,” Alois said, his tone firm now. “And I am not hindering you for his sake.”

“Then why?”

“Because neither of you was suited to see her.”

My eyes narrowed. “You don’t get to decide that.”

“I already did.”

Rage flared bright and fast. “You don’t get to make that choice! Only Sera gets to decide who is suited for her.”

He arched a brow. “Oh? And you don’t seek to influence that decision in any way?”

“This is none of your business to begin with,” I hissed.

He shrugged. “You’re right. I’m cursed with the burden of seeing too much, knowing too much.” His lips curved into a wry smile. “And I’m afraid I have a problem with keeping my opinions to myself.”

I scoffed. “Fine then. Say what’s really on your mind. You’re afraid she’ll choose wrong. That’s what this is. You’re afraid she’ll turn away from destiny if given the chance.”

“No,” Alois said quietly. “I am afraid you will not.”

Something in his gaze shifted—subtle, precise—and I knew he was narrowing on a target to shoot his damn psychoanalytic arrows.

“You see Kieran as the obstacle,” he continued. “The bond. The title. The inevitability of what fate prefers.”

My chest rose and fell too quickly. “Because he is.”

Alois shook his head once. “No, Lucian. The obstacle has always been you.”

The room seemed to still.

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