My Sister Stole My Mate, And I Let Her Chapter 495 CUT OFF

SERAPHINA’S POV

By the time I stepped out into the latter part of the day, the estate had already fully awakened into its pre-celebration rhythm.

Sunlight spilled over the Maldives horizon in a steady, golden cascade, transforming the white stone paths into something nearly incandescent. The ocean beyond the terraces shimmered like glass.

Everywhere I looked, there were signs of careful preparation—flowers rearranged in elegant clusters, ribbons adjusted on archways, servants moving with quiet efficiency as though the entire estate was a living organism, anticipating a single event.

My eighteenth birthday.

That was all anyone could talk about.

I could hear it in the softened voices that hushed when I passed, in the faint smiles that followed my movements through the corridors, in the way people inclined their heads with a respect that felt strange.

And beneath all of it, an undercurrent of unease lingered.

It was not loud; it did not demand attention. But it was there, like a thread snagged beneath fabric that otherwise looked perfect.

I didn’t know why I felt this way, especially when everything was so perfect.

I was Catherine’s prized jewel.

I had heard it more than once in passing conversations, spoken softly by servants who thought I was too far away to hear.

They said I was proof of her kindness, her ability to take someone broken from a cruel world and give them something softer, something better.

I adjusted the light fabric of my dress as I walked through the east corridor toward the garden terrace where Catherine had asked me to meet her.

The estate was quieter here, the noise of celebration softened by distance and architecture, traded for the hush of water features and the sigh of wind in the palms.

And yet even in the quieter spaces, a strange sense of being watched lingered.

When I reached the garden terrace, Catherine was already there.

She sat beneath the shade of a pale canopy, her silver-blonde hair catching the sunlight in soft strands that moved gently with the breeze.

When she saw me, her smile formed immediately.

“There you are,” she said warmly.

I smiled in return. It came naturally, this reflex of ease around her.

Catherine gestured for me to sit, and I did, folding myself into the chair across from her as servants quietly placed refreshments nearby before retreating again.

For a moment, there was only the sound of the ocean and the distant hum of preparation.

Then, I sensed Catherine studying me.

Not in a way that felt invasive.

In a way that felt...attentive. She always noticed the parts of me my family had ignored.

“You’ve been unusually quiet since this morning,” she said gently.

My fingers tightened slightly around the edge of my sleeve before I even realized it.

“I’ve just been thinking,” I admitted.

“About your birthday?”

“About my fa—” I hesitated. “About the Lockwoods.”

After everything, I couldn’t possibly call them family.

Something shifted in Catherine’s expression—not discomfort or surprise.

Something more like careful consideration, as though she had expected this topic to resurface eventually and was simply choosing the right way to engage it.

“The Lockwoods,” she said softly.

The name felt strange when spoken aloud in this place, like a word belonging to a different language that I’d never properly learned.

“I...” I sighed. “I was wondering if I could...call them.”

Catherine leaned back, her hands folding neatly in her lap.

“And why would you want to do that?” she asked after a pause.

I shrugged, shoulders tight. "It’s my birthday tomorrow. I thought maybe they’d want to...maybe I should...maybe—" I sighed, dropping my head.

“It just feels like something I need to do,” I whispered finally.

Catherine studied me for a moment longer, and it took all of my willpower not to pull my gaze from hers.

When she finally spoke, her voice was calm, measured.

“Are you sure that’s what you want?”

Something in the question made my chest tighten.

“I just want to hear them,” I said. “That’s all.”

Another pause. Then, slowly, Catherine nodded.

“Of course,” she said finally. “If it will give you peace of mind, I won’t stop you.”

I exhaled in relief. I didn’t know what I’d do if she’d said no. Then again, Catherine had never withheld anything I wanted.

Not long after, a phone was brought to me, placed carefully on a small table in the shade.

Catherine did not leave. She remained seated nearby, though she said nothing more, only watching with that same composed patience she always carried.

My fingers hesitated above the device for only a second before I dialed.

The world around me seemed to quiet as I waited, and each ring sounded louder than the last, echoing around in my head.

Then the call connected.

“Hello?” a voice answered brusquely.

My breath hitched at the sound of my mother’s voice.

“Mother,” I said softly, my voice trembling. “It’s Sera.”

There was a pause on the other end. A long, uncomfortable silence that stretched too thin.

Then my mother spoke again, and her tone was not what I expected.

“What are you calling for?”

The warmth in my chest faltered. “I-I just wanted to check in. I haven’t—”

“You shouldn’t be calling here,” she interrupted sharply.

My fingers tightened around the phone.

“I just wanted to know how everyone is doing,” I said more softly. “I...miss you.”

Another voice cut in before my mother could respond.

“I don’t know what makes you think you can call here as you please,” my father’s voice came out, cold and controlled. “You’re not a part of this family anymore, Seraphina. You never really were.”

I blinked, my grip loosening. “What?”

“You chose your path when you left with Catherine,” he continued, as though speaking to a stranger rather than a daughter. “You left your pack. You left your obligations. You left this family behind.”

“I didn’t leave because I wanted to,” I said quickly. “Catherine brought me here. She—she said—”

“She said what she needed,” my mother snapped. “Listen carefully. Do not contact us again. You are no longer a Lockwood. That should be clear enough for even you to understand.”

The line crackled, as though the world itself was pulling away.

“Wait,” I said, my voice sharper now, panic threading through it. “Please, just—”

The call ended, and silence followed.

Not the peaceful kind. Not the soft, ocean-wrapped stillness of the estate.

This silence felt abrupt. Severed.

Like I’d been cut off from everything I knew.

My hand remained frozen around the phone, though the connection was already gone.

I stared at it for a long moment, as though if I looked long enough, the words would rearrange themselves into something less final.

’You are no longer a Lockwood.’

’Do not contact us again.’

I inhaled unsteadily, but the breath refused to settle in my chest.

I pressed my fingers to my temple, where a soft, insistent throb pulsed.

Catherine’s presence beside me shifted, though she did not touch me.

“Every day, I thank my lucky stars that I took you out of that family before they hurt you even more.”

I turned to her, her image blurry through the tears gathering in my eyes.

“They truly don’t want me,” I whispered.

Her expression softened, and she reached out, placing a hand over mine.

“Some places are not meant to keep you,” she said quietly. “They only exist to teach you what you should never accept again.”

The words sank into me. Yet something inside me ached, not sharply, but deeply, like a bruise blooming beneath calm skin.

“Thank you,” I said softly, “for bringing me here. For loving me when they wouldn’t.”

Catherine’s thumb brushed gently over my knuckles. “You are always welcome here, sunshine. Never forget that.”

Her words should have soothed me.

Yet, I found myself staring at the empty phone in my hand, as though part of me was still waiting for it to ring again.

I left the garden without fully realizing I was moving.

The estate blurred slightly as I walked, voices and music fading into background noise.

I only stopped when I reached the edge of one of the quieter corridors, where sunlight fell through arched windows in long, pale strips across the floor.

That was where I finally exhaled.

And realized my hands were trembling.

“I really thought—” I began, then stopped, because I did not know how to finish the sentence.

Footsteps approached behind me.

I didn’t need to turn to recognize them as Jack’s.

He stopped beside me, not too close, not too far, as if he understood instinctively where I needed space and where I needed presence.

“Hey,” he said softly.

I let out a small breath that might have been a laugh if it had not broken halfway through. “I thought my birthday would be a good occasion to extend an olive branch, but my family still doesn’t want me.”

Jack’s expression tightened, but he did not look surprised. Instead, he simply stepped closer.

“Then they don’t deserve you,” he said.

I shook my head. “It’s not that simple.”

“It is,” he replied gently.

I finally looked at him.

There was something steady in his gaze. Something unwavering in a way that felt almost painful in contrast to the conversation I had just had.

“They are your past,” he continued. “And you are not there anymore.”

My throat tightened.

“I don’t have a wolf,” I said quietly, the words slipping out before I could stop them. “I’m...defective.”

Jack did not hesitate. “I don’t care.”

The certainty in his voice made my breath catch.

He reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from my face with gentle familiarity.

He smiled, softer now, as though the weight of the moment did not scare him the way it scared me.

“You think that removes something from you,” he continued. “But it doesn’t. Not to me.”

A pause.

Then, more quietly, almost as though it was a promise he had already made to himself long ago.

“No matter what happens, I will not abandon you, Sera.”

Something inside my chest loosened at those words, even as something else tightened in response.

“And even if your wolf never awakens,” he added, stepping closer, voice steady and certain, “I will still choose you. I will still make you mine. If not by fate, then by everything else that matters.”

My heart stuttered.

For a moment, I could not speak.

The world felt too still, too focused, as though everything had narrowed down to the space between his words and my breath.

“I...” I began, then stopped again.

Jack did not rush me. He only stayed there, waiting patiently, with a soft, reassuring smile on his face.

And I don’t know why I had the urge to run.