My Sister Stole My Mate, And I Let Her Chapter 472 WE KNOW SERA

SERAPHINA’S POV

My wide eyes immediately took in the small, fierce face that flashed onto the screen, sending a jolt right through my chest.

Ava.

She was positioned in what appeared to be one of Nightfang’s training chambers, her shoulders set determinedly, chin lifted high, her green eyes blazing with the very same defiance that had prompted her to bite my hand all those years ago in Moonlight Alley.

My breath hitched in my throat.

“What is this?” Ethan’s voice murmured from beside me.

No one offered an answer.

Naturally, because none of us had any clue.

On the screen, Ava shifted her gaze momentarily toward someone positioned behind the camera. She then refocused forward, as if preparing herself to confront the entire world with only the power of her voice.

“My name is Ava,” she stated. Her voice carried a slight tremor initially, but it held for only a brief moment.

“I don’t possess much knowledge concerning politics. I’m unsure what a ‘silver wolf’ is meant to signify. I’ve no concern for what intimidating ancient texts might proclaim or what any vindictive Alpha on television desires everyone to accept as truth.”

Ava took a visible swallow, and her voice grew firm. “However, I do know Sera. And I intimately understand what she did for me.”

A peculiar, poignant ache began to build behind my eyes, causing the present room to momentarily fade as the scene of Moonlight Alley vividly reappeared in my mind.

A confined street.

A pilfered navigational tool.

A young girl with eyes sharp as a fox’s, concealing immense fear beneath a thick layer of excessive pride.

“When I first encountered her, I stole from her,” she admitted with stark frankness.

A sudden, startled gasp rippled through the council chamber, though I barely registered its presence.

“I took something of significant value, something her son had crafted specifically for her.” She glanced away from the camera’s view once more before bringing her focus back.

“She pursued me, apprehended me, and possessed every conceivable right to either hand me over, exact punishment, or simply walk away after retrieving her possession.” Ava’s mouth drew into a tight line. “Yet, she did not. She continued following me because she observed my tears. She discovered my grandmother was ailing, and instead of treating me like a common street urchin who deserved her fate, she summoned a physician. She covered the costs of the medical treatment and stayed by my side. She sought nothing in return. She never made me feel insignificant.”

Ava’s voice faltered at this point. “She assured me that I didn’t need to bear all my burdens alone. And it wasn’t merely an empty declaration. She welcomed me into Nightfang after my grandmother’s passing and has been my guardian ever since. She is, without question, the most compassionate individual I have ever encountered.”

My vision became noticeably blurred.

I squeezed my eyes shut with determination. Once. Twice.

It proved ineffective.

On the screen, Ava took a shaky inhalation and lifted her chin even higher.

“Therefore, I hold no significance for whether she is a silver wolf. It matters not to me if she embodies something rare, formidable, or any other descriptor. Long before any of you became aware of her true nature, she was already the type of person who tended to frightened children in back alleys and generously opened her home to them.”

A profound silence descended upon the room, the tension in the air becoming almost tangible, with not a soul daring to draw breath or divert their gaze from the screen.

Then, the video feed shifted, introducing another child.

A young boy from Nightfang’s lower training cohort. I recognized him distantly. On one occasion, I had tended to his scraped knee while he valiantly attempted to suppress tears in the presence of older trainees.

“My name is Toby,” he whispered, his demeanor visibly nervous.

Ava’s voice, slightly muffled, could be heard. “Speak up.”

“My name is Toby,” he repeated more clearly. “Luna Sera offered aid when I sustained an injury. I had anticipated she would be displeased, as I was strictly forbidden from climbing the fence, but she merely cleansed my knee and reassured me that even courageous individuals experience harm.”

My chest constricted with a sharp, painful sensation.

Another child appeared on the screen.

Then yet another.

A boy, missing his two front teeth, declared with surprising confidence, “She makes a point to smile at people who are often overlooked.”

A diminutive girl with endearing curly hair softly confessed, “She actually remembered my birthday.”

Each subsequent statement resonated more profoundly than the one preceding it.

Some of the children faltered over their words. Others appeared visibly embarrassed. One young boy momentarily forgot his intended message and had to restart his statement, while a soft giggle—undoubtedly Ava’s—could be heard from behind the camera.

That specific sound struck a direct blow to my heart.

These children were not performing; they were not reciting lines.

They were conveying the unvarnished truth with the simple honesty characteristic of children—devoid of any strategic maneuvering, devoid of calculated intent, and utterly unaware of the immense significance of the metaphorical battlefield onto which they had just stepped.

Around the council table, the assembled Alphas had fallen into a state of complete silence.

Even Helen’s typically guarded expression had softened, transforming into an emotion that was difficult to accurately define.

Lacy stood near the video console, her hands pressed firmly against her mouth.

“How long has this transmission been publicly accessible?” Corin inquired in a low voice.

Lacy consulted the displayed figures, her fingers trembling. “Less than twenty minutes.”

“And the spread?”

She looked up, her eyes wide with a mixture of disbelief and shock. “It’s disseminated everywhere.”

The video feed persisted.

Ava reappeared on screen for a brief moment.

“The adults persistently demand definitive proof that Luna Sera is not some kind of monster,” she stated matter-of-factly. “Very well. We are that proof. We reside here. We observe her daily, uninfluenced by the presence of cameras. We genuinely know the person she is.”

She then moved aside from the camera’s direct view.

And Daniel appeared.

The air was completely expelled from my lungs.

My son stood directly before the camera’s lens, his small hands clasped tightly together in front of him, making a concerted effort to appear composed. He nearly achieved it.

However, I knew him far too intimately. I perceived the underlying tension in his shoulders. The noticeable brightness in his eyes. The precise manner his mouth pressed together just before he spoke, a clear indication he was striving to ensure every word emerged with unwavering steadiness.

Kieran’s hand found mine beneath the table, offering silent support.

Daniel looked directly into the camera’s unblinking eye.

“My name is Daniel Blackthorne,” he stated. “Sera is my mom.”

My throat tightened into a knot.

“People label her dangerous because she’s a silver wolf,” he went on. “But before she was a silver wolf, she was Sera, the mom who stayed awake through the night when I was ill, just to watch me breathe. The mom who bakes the most delicious pancakes in the entire world. The mom who halted her own life for me.”

He let out a sigh, shaking his head, a strand of hair falling across his face. “My mom has navigated a more challenging life than most. She believes I don’t comprehend the entire narrative, but what I do know is sufficient. I know my mom possesses courage. She is kind. She’s the sort of person who will plant herself in front of those she cherishes and absorb every blow to ensure they remain unharmed.”

His voice wavered. He swallowed, continuing his speech. “My mom was extraordinary long before she bore the title of silver wolf. She is good. This remains true even when it inflicts pain upon her. Even when individuals misunderstand her. Even when succumbing to their accusations would be the simpler path.”

Daniel’s eyes began to gleam, moisture welling up as he blinked, resolute in his decision to finish speaking.

“So, you may feel fear if you wish,” he said gently. “But I do not. I am fully aware of my mom’s true nature. She is the kind of person you want guarding your back. She’s the kind of person you desire to return to after a long, arduous day. She’s the kind of person whose love you never, ever doubt.”

Something within me fractured, and a tear traced a path down my cheek.

Then, another followed.

I found myself utterly unable to halt their flow.

I pressed the palm of my free hand firmly against my mouth, yet it did nothing to suppress the sob that violently shook my ribs.

“And by the way,” he added, “I’ve encountered her wolf, Alina, and she’s pretty darn awesome.”

A soft, wet sound escaped my lips.

The video concluded, transitioning to a plain black screen.

White lettering materialized:

WE KNOW SERA.

The council chamber echoed with silence.

For several drawn-out heartbeats, not a single person moved.

Then, Lacy emitted a loud sniffle and wiped her face with the sleeve of her shirt.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, though no accusation had been leveled against her.

I lowered my hand from my mouth, but my fingers trembled uncontrollably.

Kieran turned to face me. His own eyes appeared red and watery, his expression caught between profound pride and a tenderness so intense it threatened to overwhelm me once more.

“They orchestrated this?” I managed to whisper.

His thumb gently swept away the tear from my cheek. “It appears so.”

“They are merely children.”

“They are your children,” Corin stated softly from his position across the table.

I looked towards him, my vision blurred.

He offered a smile. “Not all by blood, perhaps. But in every way that truly counts.”

Lacy’s tablet chimed persistently.

Then, another laptop joined in.

Followed by three phones around the room.

She glanced down, her expression one of renewed astonishment.

“The reactions are shifting,” she announced.

Ethan strode purposefully to her side. “By how much?”

“Significantly.” Her voice quivered. “The video is trending above Marcus’s interview. People are actively reposting clips of Ava. Daniel’s segment is everywhere. The comments are changing with incredible speed.”

She brought the main feed back onto the screen.

The headlines continued their rapid evolution, but no longer in Marcus’s favor.

CHILDREN OF NIGHTFANG DEFEND SILVER LUNA.

“WE KNOW SERA” VIDEO CAPTURES GLOBAL ATTENTION.

SILVER WOLF OR VICTIM OF SLANDER?

Public commentary streamed by too quickly to fully comprehend, yet scattered fragments caught my eye.

’No child would fabricate such a story.’

’That video brought me to tears.’

’Marcus sounded rehearsed. Those kids sounded genuine.’

’I’m uncertain of her true nature, but I know whom I trust.’

’We must protect Sera and those children.’

A laugh, fractured and disbelieving, escaped me amidst my tears.

Just like that, the dynamics of the conflict had shifted once more. Not due to irrefutable evidence or shrewd strategy.

But because a group of children had accomplished what all of us had been too cautious, too political, too fearful to achieve.

They had, inadvertently, restored my humanity.

Kieran drew me gently into his embrace, right there in the presence of the allied Alphas, and I went to him without a moment’s hesitation.

I buried my face against his chest as the screens continued to flash with messages of support, with outrage expressed on my behalf, and with strangers arguing that Marcus had resorted to attacking a woman whom children clearly adored because he had exhausted all other weapons.

Kieran’s hand tenderly caressed the back of my head as I closed my eyes, my tears dampening his shirt.

“They chose you,” he murmured softly.

I was too overcome with emotion to offer a rebuttal. Yet, those children had never truly needed to make a choice at all.

They had always known me.