My Sister Stole My Mate, And I Let Her Chapter 476 RAVAGE

SERAPHINA’S POV

The public square dissolved into pandemonium.

Shrieks ripped through the assembled onlookers as thick, black smoke billowed upwards from the fractured cobblestones, reeking of scorched herbs, putrid blood, and forbidden magic.

Journalists scrambled back from the hastily erected barricades. Bewildered civilians stampeded away from the southern perimeter. Cameras whipped about erratically, capturing fleeting, distorted images as gaunt wolves, birthed from the smoke, materialized and sprang towards the tribunal platform.

It was a scene of utter terror.

Yet, preparation had been made for such an event.

“Evacuate the civilians!” Kieran bellowed, his authoritative voice echoing like a thunderclap across the square.

The inner defense line solidified rather than buckling under the assault. Frostbane warriors lining the outer perimeter transitioned into a defensive stance, herding the civilian observers behind sturdy, reinforced barriers, while Maya’s sharp, decisive commands cut through the rising panic.

“This way! Stay down! Do not rush for the exits until given the all-clear!”

Her voice, steady and resonant, managed to soothe those on the precipice of hysteria.

Nightfang warriors formed a tight cordon near the southern entry point, intercepting the initial onslaught of mutated wolves as they erupted from the obscuring smoke.

Silver gleamed. Talons scraped against stone. The air vibrated with guttural snarls and the sharp clang of weaponry.

The force of Corin’s psychic network washed over my senses like an incoming tide, suppressing hostile intentions and discerning panic from malice, foe from bystander.

Several figures concealed by cloaks staggered as his power impacted them. One warrior crumpled to his knees, hands clamped to his head, before Frostbane guards swiftly apprehended him.

Alois raised a single hand, and the ancient wards embedded beneath the stones flared to life.

Luminous lines spread across the entire square in complex geometrical designs, manifesting as barriers that ensnared the first wave of attackers in a designated zone of conflict, preventing their advance towards the huddled crowd.

Jack let out a raw, gleeful laugh from the platform in front of us, as if the unfolding carnage was a spectacle arranged solely for his amusement.

“Took them long enough!” he boomed.

Kieran spun towards him, the execution blade still gripped tightly in his hand.

Jack’s grin widened considerably, yet I could sense the frantic thrum of the dark implant within him, a palpable tremor beneath the surface.

It was hungry. It was excited.

“Kieran,” I cautioned, my voice low.

This was more than a rescue operation; it was an awakening.

Jack’s inner darkness was stirring in response to Catherine and Marcus’ operatives, and with each passing moment he remained uncontained, his peril escalated.

Two of the transformed wolves managed to breach the southern defense and hurtled themselves directly towards the tribunal platform.

Ashar surged beneath Kieran’s skin, but Kieran eschewed his transformation.

He moved with a deadly, precise human efficiency, intercepting the first wolf with a sweeping strike that cleaved its chest open from shoulder to ribcage.

The creature did not bleed as a living wolf would. Instead, thick, viscous black fluid splattered the stones.

I reached out mentally towards the second wolf.

A silver-hued pressure radiated from my mind, enveloping the creature’s consciousness, and I found disturbingly little of its former self remaining within.

Only torment. Despair. An gnawing hunger.

It was Catherine’s compulsion.

I severed it.

The wolf faltered mid-air, tumbling and sliding across the stones to land at my feet.

For a single, suspended moment, all nearby eyes were fixed upon the scene.

Even I was momentarily stunned, gazing at my own hands, surprised by the effortless obedience of my power.

Jack let out a snarl as the darkness surrounding him recoiled from me once more, but this time it writhed, fueled by a furious humiliation.

The smoke intensified near the southern boundary.

Another wave of cloaked figures advanced, their movements too coordinated to be those of desperate fugitives.

Their objective was not to seize control of the square. They intended to reach Jack.

“Secure the platform!” Ethan commanded.

Helen shifted her position near the western flank, her lupine form a pale, savage entity as she engaged an altered attacker attempting to outflank the reporters.

Callister’s wolf drove another group back towards Alois’ protective wards.

Maxwell darted through the eastern barricade like a swift blade, pulling an injured civilian from the panicked throng before driving his elbow forcefully into a cloaked assailant’s throat.

Still, the assaults continued.

Once. Twice. A third time, Marcus’ followers crashed against our defensive formation, attempting to carve a path directly to Jack.

Three times, the united forces repelled their desperate surge.

And with each failed attempt, the smoke emanating from the southern rupture deepened in its dark intensity.

Then, a new presence entered the square.

Ancient. Authoritative. Possessing a coldness so profound it seemed to silence even the terrified murmurs of the crowd.

Kieran and I both turned towards its source.

Emerging from the swirling smoke, Marcus Draven strode onto the shattered stones.

For one drawn-out second, the entirety of the assembled crowd comprehended the significance of his arrival.

The respected Alpha, who had publicly disavowed any connection to illicit activities, had materialized amidst an active armed conflict to reclaim the son he had callously abandoned on camera.

Every reporter still on their feet immediately swiveled their lenses to focus on him.

Marcus’ expression tightened when he registered the cameras’ attention.

Kieran’s smile bared his teeth.

“Well,” he called out, his voice resonating across the tense square, “this is rather awkward.”

A collective murmur swept through the onlookers, curiosity momentarily eclipsing their fear.

Marcus’ gaze shifted, first to the cameras.

Then to Jack.

Finally, his eyes settled upon me.

Hatred flickered there first. Then something colder.

“Seraphina,” Marcus said, his voice almost soft. “You should have remained a myth.”

Quietly, power began to gather beneath my skin as I stepped forward.

“And you should have stayed concealed.”

Kieran moved in perfect concert with me.

From the front, he engaged Marcus, his blade a lethal arc slicing through the air, forcing Marcus to retreat.

I attacked from the flank, my power weaving through the emerging smoke, slicing through Catherine’s warped sigils before they could fully coalesce around him.

Yet, Marcus possessed alarming speed, far beyond what seemed natural.

His aura erupted outward, potent enough to shatter the very stone beneath his feet. He contorted mid-movement, his claws elongated, eyes blazing with gold and black as he met Kieran’s assault head-on.

The collision sent tremors through the platform.

Behind us, Jack yelled something, but I could only spare him a fleeting thought.

Kieran systematically pressed Marcus back, each measured, merciless, and precise strike landing true.

I could now sense every insidious thread of Marcus’ corruption, every dark seam Catherine had expertly woven into his defenses.

He was unlike Jack; his darkness wasn't buried, but worn.

He embraced it. Wielded it. Nourished it with his own will.

A wave of revulsion surged within me.

“You constructed all of this,” I declared, threads of silver light infusing my voice.

Marcus’ gaze snapped sharply towards me.

“For strength,” I continued. “For dominion. For intimidation. And now, everyone will witness your true nature.”

His carefully maintained composure fractured, his eyes darting involuntarily towards the waiting cameras.

That momentary lapse was all the opening needed.

Kieran struck decisively.

Marcus slammed onto the stone, the silver blade pressing against his throat before he could regain his footing. Simultaneously, I ensnared his mind, my psychic pressure crushing his thoughts.

For a single, suspended breath, he was ours.

The surrounding square seemed to hold its breath with us.

Jack watched from the platform, his expression a tumultuous mix of triumph and dread.

Marcus’ eyes flickered towards him briefly.

Then, a slow smile spread across his face.

My stomach plummeted.

His fingers tightened around something concealed within his palm.

“No!” I commanded sharply.

It was too late.

Marcus crushed the device.

A blinding burst of black-red energy erupted from his hand, engulfing him completely.

Kieran grabbed me, yanking us backward as the explosion ripped through the platform.

Intense heat seared my skin. Stone disintegrated. Wards shrieked in protest. The world dissolved into a chaotic maelstrom of smoke, raw force, and the deafening roar of magic detonating from within.

Kieran’s body shielded mine as we hit the ground, yet the impact still stole the air from my lungs. For a terrifying moment, static filled my ears, and my vision swam in a crimson haze.

Then, the sound returned in a rush.

Screams.

Shouts.

Jack.

Jack’s scream.

Not solely of pain.

But of metamorphosis.

I pushed myself upright just in time to witness darkness pour from the very spot Marcus had vanished, flowing like living ink across the stones and colliding violently with Jack.

His restraints shattered, and he archedbackward with a savage cry, bones audibly cracking beneath his skin as his very form twisted, stretched, and reshaped itself.

“No,” I breathed out.

His wolf form ruptured from him, monstrous and grotesquely malformed.

Dark veins pulsed beneath its matted grey fur, its eyes black pools with feverish gold burning at their core.

The creature that had been Jack slammed onto the platform with a guttural roar that sent civilians scattering in renewed terror.

Kieran, beside me, struggled to rise, blood tracing a path down one side of his face.

He collapsed back down with a pained groan. Whatever substance was in the device Marcus detonated had clearly incapacitated the most formidable Alpha I knew.

“Encircle him!” Kieran bellowed.

The allied forces surged forward.

Nightfang advanced from the inner perimeter.

Frostbane moved from the southern line.

All the Alphas committed simultaneously.

For a fleeting moment, containment seemed possible.

Then, Jack’s wolf slammed into the weakest point of the eastern barricade with a force that felt suicidal.

Silver spears found their mark in his flank. A ward flared against his chest. Corin’s psychic assault drove him briefly to one knee.

But the profound darkness within him seemed to consume agony, using it as fuel.

Jack howled, shattering the ward with sheer brute force, and tore through two densely packed ranks before anyone could fully react.

I reached out with my mind.

The darkness recoiled, wild and burning with Marcus’s final, potent command.

“Ravage.”

Ethan shifted, and Logan lunged after Jack with a deafening snarl.

However, Jack had already broken through the line.

Bleeding black ichor, teetering on the brink of madness, and barely cohering, he vanished into the swirling smoke beyond the square.

The plan had succeeded.

Marcus had been exposed.

But Jack Draven had escaped.

And whatever Catherine had wrought from him was now terrifyingly unleashed.