My Sister Stole My Mate, And I Let Her Chapter 5 THE FUNERAL

SERAPHINA’S POV

Another night passed without sleep.

The irony was not lost on me—I hadn’t shared a bed with Kieran in years, yet the unfamiliar quiet of this new residence felt more significant than any absence. Every time I closed my eyes, phantoms of what might have occurred would dance just beyond my eyelids.

Three times I had crept down the corridor to check on Daniel, only to discover him peacefully nestled beneath his Star Wars comforter, his breathing calm and even. Thank the heavens for small reliefs. This modest house might lack the imposing security of the Alpha Manor, but I would fill every corner with an abundance of love to make up for it.

When dawn’s pale fingers finally managed to pry through my blackout curtains, a heavy dread settled in my stomach.

Today, we were going to bury my father.

I dressed deliberately, each movement burdened with apprehension. It wasn’t sorrow that held me captive—our connection had ceased to exist long before his heart stopped beating. No, it was the prospect of enduring my family’s judgmental gazes, of standing before a coffin opposite Kieran as our divorce papers received their final ink.

Ex-husband. The very word scraped against my exposed nerves.

Daniel’s door creaked as I pushed it open. My breath hitched—there he sat, already clad in the miniature black suit we had selected together, his small fingers skillfully operating his Nintendo Switch.

"Morning, Mom." He offered me a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Tears welled in my eyes. Where had my child disappeared to? The boy gazing back at me possessed Kieran’s strong jawline, his piercing eyes. A living testament to all I had lost—and all I had gained.

"Look at you," I whispered, smoothing his lapel. "All grown up."

A shadow of sadness crossed his face, but he composed himself and set the video game console aside. "Let’s go," he murmured, his shoulders straightening with a pretense of bravery.

But as the old stone church came into view, Daniel’s resolve wavered. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the car door handle.

"Hey." I cupped his tense shoulder. "Talk to me."

When he turned, the unshed tears in his eyes pierced me. "We didn’t... we didn’t get to say goodbye. Does that mean Grandpa doesn’t know we loved him?"

The question struck me like a silver dagger to the heart. While my father’s absence had become my normal, Daniel had lost his favorite storyteller, his secret stash of cookies.

I placed my palm over his rapidly beating heart. "Grandpa is right here, my love." My voice wavered. "And here." I gently tapped his temple. "As long as we remember him, he is never truly gone."

Daniel exhaled shakily, some of the tension easing from his small body. "Okay."

"Ready?"

His nod was all the reassurance I needed. Together, we exited the car.

The church doors drew us into a throng of mourners—pack members adorned in their finest black attire, allies from neighboring territories, and a smattering of human associates who had conducted business with my father. The atmosphere thrummed with hushed condolences and the heavy scent of lilies.

My family was seated like royalty in the front pew. My mother’s head rested on Ethan’s shoulder, while Celeste—

Gods.

Even amidst her sorrow, my sister appeared as though she had stepped from a fashion magazine. Sunlight filtering through stained-glass windows highlighted her perfect blonde waves, her designer dress accentuating curves that had always made my own figure feel rather boyish in comparison.

"Daniel, darling!" My mother’s arms opened wide as we approached—not for me, never for me—but for the grandson who bore the Blackthorne name. The grandson who was valued.

I watched with a sense of detachment as Daniel was enveloped in her embrace, his small form vanishing against her black lace. This left only one unoccupied seat—positioned between Celeste and the end of the pew.

My sister’s ice-blue eyes swept over me. A decade of separation, yet her animosity had not lessened. She shifted away slightly as I sat down, the silk of her dress rustling against the pew like a serpent’s warning.

Attempting to divert my thoughts from the family that didn't want me, I let my gaze drift around the hall—and settled upon another family that had no desire for me. The Blackthornes occupied the opposing side of the aisle, Kieran’s broad shoulders forming an imposing silhouette beside his parents.

Leona Blackthorne’s lips tightened when she observed my gaze. Just as my family had rejected me, the Blackthornes refused to acknowledge me. To them, I was merely Kieran’s legal wife, not his Luna.

His mother, Leona, still held the designation of Luna even after the Alpha title had been transferred to Kieran. Now, she looked at me with icy disdain. I was certain she was thrilled about the divorce news. The blemish on her family’s reputation was finally eradicated.

A small, warm hand slipped into mine. Daniel had managed to extricate himself from my mother’s grasp and now stood as a living shield between me and Celeste. His fingers squeezed mine—a silent assurance: I am here.

Drawing strength from this remarkable child, who ought not to have been the brave one, I squeezed back. The somber chords of the organ heralded the service's commencement. Merely a few more hours. I could maintain my composure for that long. Or could I?

***

Celeste, I had to admit, had perfect timing.

She observed the entirety of the service. She remained present through the graveside ceremony as we each cast handfuls of earth onto our father’s coffin. She waited until the attendees dispersed, leaving only Daniel and me to witness the gravediggers commence their solemn duty.

"It is thoughtful of you to offer assistance with the funeral arrangements." Her voice cut through my grief as sharply as a silver blade.

I stiffened, yet did not turn. "I was sincere." The hollow ache in my chest intensified. My solitary text offering help had received no reply—my mother’s silence conveyed everything. With Celeste returned, my presence became even more superfluous.

Celeste’s laughter was devoid of warmth, all sharp edges. "As if anyone would accept anything from you."

The wind carried her cloying jasmine scent as she drew nearer. "Ten years, sister," she hissed. "Ten years you pretended to live my life. But I am reclaiming what is rightfully mine—my family, my standing..." Her breath ghosted against my ear. "My Kieran."

It was almost enough to make me laugh, right there at my father's grave.

The sheer absurdity of it—Celeste had always held sway over them all. Their affection, their devotion, Kieran’s heart—none of it had ever genuinely been mine to forfeit.

"Welcome home," I murmured to the freshly disturbed earth. Today was dedicated to honoring my father, not to engaging in battles I was predetermined to lose.

Celeste invariably triumphed.

The crunching of gravel announced her departure. I had no need to look to know she had gone directly to Kieran—I could vividly picture the way Leona’s face would brighten, the manner Kieran’s arms would instinctively embrace her. As Daniel shifted beside me, I caught confirmation in my peripheral vision: Celeste nestled against Kieran’s chest as if she belonged there, a smirk playing on her lips as she glanced over his shoulder.

"Mom?" Daniel’s small hand reached for mine. My brave boy, standing as a bulwark between me and the world. "May I go see Grandma?"

The plea in his eyes shattered my resolve. Regardless of their rejection of me, Daniel deserved his family. "Of course, sweetheart." My kiss lingered in his hair as he bounded away.

From the far side of the field, I observed Christian scooping Daniel into his arms with grandfatherly ease, Leona adjusting his attire. At least they cherished him—the sole positive outcome from this mockery of a marriage.

Now alone, I confronted the gaping void in the earth. The gaping void in my existence.

"Goodbye, Dad," I whispered to the wind, my tears falling not only for the father I had lost, but for the daughter he had never truly perceived.

I turned away from my father’s grave, my heels sinking into the soft soil as I made my way toward the sanctuary of my car. I would wait there—unseen, solitary—until this somber occasion had concluded.

I was halfway out of the gravesite when utter chaos erupted.

One moment: a solemn afternoon punctuated only by subdued sobs. The next: a horrific scene of snarls and shrieks as rogues surged from the treeline, like shadows manifested with fangs.

Daniel.

His name was a desperate prayer on my lips as I spun back, my eyes scanning the pandemonium. My brother’s formidable brown wolf stood protectively over our mother, his fangs slick with crimson. Across the clearing, Kieran’s midnight-black form circled Celeste—of course.

No one spared me a glance. No one recalled the wolfless daughter, the defective mate, the easy victim.

The rogues, however, noticed.

Yellow eyes fixated on me as gaunt figures slunk closer, their nostrils flaring at the scent of my terror.

"Daniel!" My scream fractured the cacophony. Where was he? Who—

A crushing force slammed into my back, claws raking across my skin. I met the ground hard, the world spinning as I scrambled backward. Above me, a skeletal rogue wolf loomed, its rancid saliva spattering my cheeks as it growled menacingly.

This was it. After all that had transpired, I would perish on my knees in the dirt.

My gaze frantically darted through the melee. My shoulder blazed with pain, hot, viscous liquid trickling down my back, yet only Daniel’s safety mattered.

Please, I silently implored whatever deity might be listening, just let me see him one last time—

The rogue lunged.

Mere moments before it could seize my head, a black blur intervened mid-air, the sickening sound of snapping bones echoing as the attacking wolf was violently flung aside.

Towering above me, hackles raised and fangs bared, stood a colossal black wolf I had never before encountered.