My Sister Stole My Mate, And I Let Her Chapter 488 TOO LATE

SERAPHINA’S POV

The woman standing next to Lucian paused before responding. She merely observed me with eyes that felt eerily familiar, and a primal instinct within me recoiled in perplexity, as nothing about her seemed right. She lacked the vacant emptiness of Catherine’s constructs, nor the shattered malevolence that clung to rogue entities twisted beyond recognition. Her presence felt… multifaceted. Akin to gazing into a mirror submerged in dark waters, where the reflection lagged ever so slightly. If she were indeed a puppet, Catherine must have dedicated a significant amount of time to her creation. And then strategically positioned her beside Lucian, like a shackle forged from flesh and recollected moments.

I shifted my gaze from her to him, my voice unintentionally dropping to a lower register. “Is this the reason?” Lucian’s expression remained unchanged, yet his eyes emanated a raw, palpable pain. For a fleeting instant, he bore a striking resemblance to the man who once stood beside me amidst the ruins of my life, extending a helping hand. The wind swept across the precipice, carrying the faint echoes of conflict from the coast below. Somewhere behind us, a burst of power erupted with such force that it dislodged leaves from the trees, and I knew Kieran and Damian were still engaged in a brutal exchange, their ferocity threatening to tear the island asunder. Yet here, a profound silence descended, more deafening than a scream.

Maxwell edged closer to my side, his weapon dipping by no more than an inch. “I have a bad feeling about this,” he grumbled. Lucian emitted a single, breathy laugh, devoid of any mirth. It was swiftly suppressed by a chilling self-control as the ambient pressure around him intensified. Now that I was attuned to its presence, I could sense it. Catherine’s influence coiled around him in unseen strands, so subtle that another psychic might miss it, but to me, the distortion was glaringly obvious. Lucian was battling an unseen force with every moment he remained here. And he was faltering.

“You are too late,” he stated, his voice soft. Maxwell stiffened. “For what?” Lucian’s eyes drifted upwards towards the heavens. Instinctively, my own followed. The sun still bathed the island in its light, but faint shadows had begun to stretch slowly across its expanse. At first glance, it appeared to be mere passing cloud cover. Then, a knot formed in my stomach. An eclipse. Much like the one Catherine had orchestrated when we first encountered her. A wave of coldness pulsed through the island beneath my feet.

Lucian registered the dawning realization on my face. “Catherine is nearing completion,” he conveyed. The atmosphere seemed to tighten around us. “What does that signify?” I pressed. For a moment, he simply met my gaze, and the sorrow in his eyes caused my chest to tighten, mirroring the raw grief he displayed when he confessed Zara’s death to me back at OTS. But now, something even more dreadful lay beneath it. Utter powerlessness. “When the eclipse reaches its zenith,” he said, his voice hushed, “the barrier will seal entirely.”

“And then?” Maxwell inquired sharply. Lucian’s gaze shifted towards him. “All those within Catherine’s domain will belong to her.” Horror washed over us. “No,” I breathed. Lucian’s expression hardened with a grim finality. “She is utilizing the island itself as a psychic conduit. The barrier, the sacrificial rites, the puppets, the corrupted rogues… all of it has been fueling the ultimate phase.” His voice cracked with emotion. “Once the eclipse is total, Catherine will no longer require collars or mental conditioning. She will overwrite every mind ensnared within the barrier.”

My heart skipped a beat. The warriors positioned behind us shifted with palpable unease. Maxwell uttered a coarse curse under his breath. “She cannot control all of us,” a Frostbane operative declared, though his words were laced with doubt. Lucian regarded him with weary compassion. “You fail to grasp the extent of her transformation.” Zara finally stirred. Just a single step. Yet, a surge of psychic energy emanated from her so abruptly that several warriors behind me faltered. My eyes widened. By the gods, even injured and subdued, her power was immense. The air around her faintly shimmered as an unseen force swept through the entrance hall behind them. Lights flickered erratically. The very stone beneath our feet emitted a soft groan.

Lucian closed his eyes. “Zara,” he murmured, and a fragile quality infused the single word. Her power instantly stabilized. My throat felt tight. She was listening to him. Not like a puppet following orders, but like someone clinging to the sole familiar voice in an encroaching darkness. “She does not wish to harm you,” Lucian stated, not looking in my direction. “Then move,” Maxwell commanded brusquely. Lucian’s gaze ascended once more. “I am unable to.” The invisible pressure constricting him tightened further, and this time, visible pain flashed across his features. Catherine was observing. Not actively intervening, but sufficiently present to penalize any defiance. “Lucian,” I began carefully, “if there is any part of you that feels remorse, that desires to atone, then assist us in stopping her.”

A look of profound anguish contorted his face then. Not defiance. Terror. Yet, something inside me insisted it wasn’t for himself. The words from his letter echoed in my mind.

‘The revived Zara acts as a chain upon me, ensuring my compliance; I’m unable to deny him anything for fear of her being harmed.’

Heaven alone knew what terrible fates awaited Zara should Lucian defy Catherine and Marcus. A new, more potent pulse reverberated across the island. The shadows cast by the sun grew darker. My instincts shrieked a warning. Time was rapidly diminishing. ‘My mother is beneath us, isn’t she?’ I inquired abruptly. Lucian’s gaze shot towards me. Now that I stood so close, I could faintly sense Sylvia beneath the ground, weak yet undeniably present. Lucian observed the understanding dawning on my features, and a sense of resignation settled over him. Zara’s head then tilted, her focus momentarily blurring as if she were hearing something from a great distance. Lucian registered this instantly. His expression shifted. ‘Sera—’ ‘Enough pleasantries,’ Zara declared, her voice startling me so completely that I was caught off guard by her assault. The ambient temperature plummeted, and a wave of psychic pressure slammed into the entrance, strong enough to fracture one of the stone columns by the doorway. ‘Farewell, cousin,’ she spat. An unseen force erupted outwards across the ridge, shredding trees and hurling several operatives backward with such violence that they impacted the stone pathway. ‘Move!’ Maxwell bellowed. Utter chaos ensued. As Zara’s formidable psychic might surged against ours in overwhelming waves, both graceful and destructive, the warriors charged forward. She attacked with the insidious power of water pressure under ice, subtle until the precise moment it shattered bone. Reacting instinctively, I projected silver power, deflecting the next psychic assault before it could smash two Nightfang wolves against the cliff face. The impact reverberated through my skull, and sharp pain erupted behind my eyes. Gods, she was an absolute terror. Lucian moved then. Darkness swirled beneath his feet as he intercepted Maxwell with ferocious intensity, preventing him from reaching Zara. Metal shrieked against metal. ‘You treacherous spawn of a—’ Maxwell snarled. Lucian disarmed him with a single, fluid motion before pushing him forcefully back. ‘Take Sera and escape!’ he commanded. I remained rooted to the spot. Maxwell, too, froze. Lucian’s eyes found mine again, and for a fleeting, unbelievable moment, I grasped his intention entirely. Every action he took skillfully diverted the others away from the entrance, rather than towards me. Each strike he executed created openings instead of sealing them. Even Zara’s attacks seemed to inexplicably curve around my position, annihilating everyone near me without inflicting a single blow. He was buying us crucial time within the temporal distortion. Catherine’s invisible chain tightened around him immediately. Suddenly, blood trickled from Lucian’s nose. Zara flinched beside him, her hand flying to her temple as pain contorted her features, as if an unseen force had pierced her mind. My horror intensified. ‘Lucian—’ ‘GO!’ he roared, and this time the command was laced with genuine desperation. Another explosion echoed behind us. Then, without warning, Kieran materialized beside me. Dust and fragments of stone sprayed across the entrance as Damian crashed through the upper terrace behind him, strong enough to cause a section of the railing to collapse. Kieran’s chest heaved, blood marred his throat and jaw, yet Ashar’s menacing aura permeated the air with greater intensity than ever. Relief washed over me, so potent it was almost painful. ‘Kieran—’ ‘Brett and Maris are keeping him occupied.’ His gaze briefly flickered towards Lucian and Zara before hardening. ‘We’re out of time.’ Another psychic wave tore through the ridge. The shadows of the eclipse above deepened. Lucian’s voice, low and strained, reached us. ‘The elevator at the end of the central corridor descends underground.’ His jaw clenched visibly, as though he were forcing the words out through immense pain. ‘Level seven.’ Blood now dripped ceaselessly from his nose. Catherine was exacting her retribution for every syllable uttered. Kieran’s eyes met Lucian’s for a prolonged moment. Then, he gave a single, sharp nod. Warriors behind us quickly regrouped around Maxwell while Lucian and Zara advanced together, once more impeding any pursuit. ‘I’ll keep them here,’ Maxwell stated grimly. ‘You certain?’ Kieran inquired. Maxwell let out a humorless laugh as he drew another blade from his belt. ‘Certainty ceased being relevant several disasters ago.’ Despite the dire circumstances, the corner of Kieran’s mouth twitched, betraying a hint of grim amusement. Then, he seized my hand. ‘Let’s move.’ We ran. The facility’s doors slid open automatically as we crossed the threshold, revealing a corridor so immaculate it appeared virtually untouched. White floors gleamed under recessed lighting. Glass walls mirrored our movements in fragmented reflections. The air carried a sterile, cold, faintly chemical scent, overlaid by the underlying miasma of blood magic invisibly infused into the very structure. Eerily silent. There should have been personnel. Scientists. Guards. Instead, the facility felt as though it had been hastily abandoned. Our footsteps echoed sharply as we ventured deeper within.

Kieran remained glued to my side, his hand occasionally grazing mine as if to confirm my presence.

“You alright?” he inquired softly.

“No.”

The candid admission escaped before I could temper it.

In response, Kieran laced our fingers together, offering solace in a way only he could.

A lump formed in my throat. “She’s nearby.”

The connection of kinship, buried deep, tugged more insistently with each passing moment, a subtle yet clear pulse resonating through rock and metal.

The hallway expanded into a vast central chamber, its walls adorned with glass observation panels peering down into the laboratories below.

Most of these facilities appeared deserted now, machinery left mid-operation under the erratic glow of screens and toppled chairs.

A wave of nausea washed over me as we passed a lab where metallic restraints dangled open near a floor stained with dried blood.

Experiments on puppets.

Kieran’s face contorted into a mask of pure fury.

“We’re reducing this entire place to ashes once this is done.”

“Assuming Catherine leaves anything intact,” I retorted.

The elevators beckoned at the far end of the chamber.

The instant we neared them, every fiber of my being shrieked a warning.

Kieran moved in perfect sync.

We halted abruptly as the elevator doors slid apart.

And out stepped Jack’s terrifying wolf form.